It's a wonderfully sunny day in Rome, and you're leading a large procession throughout the streets, en route to the annual foot races. You, of course, are in the middle, protected by your guards, also accompanied my some of your friends, your wife, and some grand music. You stride pridefully down the narrow way, nodding to the people, even waving a little, when suddenly you hear a shrill cry that shatters your blissful stroll.
