Ketchup runs deep. Maronara is the answer. Or anything red, really. A red saunce, a red glare, red sparkles. Fuschia in a pinch. Pink, if desperate. Something warm, for the bones,  for the heart. Harmless red. How dare you portend such pleasure. Your garrulous way of jumping out from sepia tones; from a Spielburg epic to a soap opera , you are there, for me in, to alarm and alert and tantalize. Ready to Red yourself for me.