My victim grapples with his fate as he feels his grow week from the lack of oxygen due to my hands around his neck. I stare deeply into his pain-stricken eyes as they dart back and forth, his chest struggles to fill with air and his body pitches and convulses. Then, as I see him start to fade, I let go of his windpipe and massage his chest allowing the life-giving air to come back in. This man is totally mine to do with as I please and he knows it. But he doesn't know what's next. Fear sets in as I guide him down to the dark corner of the cellar where I keep the electric chair.