"God, that's beautiful," MacDonell whispers.
Soon the bloodstain analysts will trot off to lunch. Then they will hold their annual business meeting and offer a last round of morbid jokes. Finally, they will pack up their official IABPA binders and the business cards hidden in their shirt pockets and fly back home, where new corpses await.
For the moment, though, they are bound by images of procreation -- transfixed by the sight of spatter coming to life.