Teribus, I just thought I'd mention that the horse you're beating is dead. It will not get up and run again. It lays there, a pile of lacerated hamburger in a pool of blood, and it has been laying there for some time now. And it's really beginning to stink. And yet, there you are, vigorously wielding your whip with something that verges on desperation.

I'm sorry. But the horse is dead!

Don Firth