There'd been news purporting an Alzheimer causing sap, from an obscure XYZ tree somewhere in South America.
Such report ought rank at the top of the sounding probe within the medical industrial complex, what with the subsequent demise of the person, the heart-broken caregivers, the erstwhile pharma RD staff, the pill-peddlers shoulder to shoulder with Congress-fluke who golf the highnoon away, as victim slowly, passionately expires. Subtle need for that 20-year warning; those left behind or upon mobile devices, forgotten neurological keys like those butterflies of youth, lost to the inhumane horror of a drip/drop that of a deadly, arcane sap.
Meanwhile, the Midwestern Governor enthusiastically legalizes switchblades, and the hardware stores make a buck or two from the machete display. Apparently there's need to bushwhack and explore that path not made. That scratchy, brambled trail into the heart of darkness, then up a tree for other unknown methods of destruction.
Whilst the ox legs flail midstream, the curved blade teeth of piranha attack, shredding beast to bone.
That roil of burst bubbled blood.
Alas only hoof and horn, that sacrosanct remnant scintilla of guts and sunbaked glory, gone.
Now hollow hide. Now blush pink awash downstream raucously ravished rippling diminished to rapid stones faster yet to oblivion.