"So he looked up and his nose was just ... gone," a businessman tells his Blackberry, his face a matrix of broken capillaries. "Blood spurting ten foot in the air. Blood just everywhere. Ah, it was terrible. The worst thing I've seen in sport for a long time. No nose. Just terrible."
He hangs up and disappears into Centre Way, a flash of navy pinstripes fighting to the front of the queue for his lunchtime baguette.
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