“Say you have an ax - just a cheap one from Home Depot. On one bitter winter day, you use said ax to behead a man. Don’t worry - the man’s already dead. Maybe you should worry, ‘cause you’re the one who shot him.”… “And you’re chopping off his head because even with eight bullet holes in him, you’re pretty sure he’s about to spring back to his feet and eat the look of terror right off your face.”

"On the last swing, the handle splinters. You now have a broken ax. So you go to the hardware store, explaining away the dark reddish stains on the handle as barbeque sauce. The repaired ax sits undisturbed in your house until the next spring when one rainy morning, a strange creature appears in your kitchen. So you grab your trusty ax and chop the thing into several pieces. On the last blow, however - Of course, a chipped head means yet another trip to the hardware store.

As soon as you get home with your newly headed ax, though… You meet the reanimated body of the guy you beheaded last year, only he’s got a new head stitched on with what looks like plastic weed-trimmer line and wears that unique expression of you’re-the-man-who-killed-me-last-winter resentment that one so rarely encounters in everyday life.

So you brandish your ax. “That’s the ax that slayed me,” he rasps.

Is he right?"