I couldn't wait. Here I have already smashed off the glass envelope of the victim. In my amp, it hummed, rattled and was so microphonic that it sounded like a disintegrating bass drum when you tapped on it. It must die. Its well-behaved brother is still OK so he gets to live. A couple of whacks over the trash can with the Estwing hammer from the kitchen drawer, and now it is bare. Unprotected, like a freshly peeled lobster. Guts all available for INSPECTION.