 Why don't you go out the track again before it closes, let me know, and I'll go too. You know, I'm a lover of horses. Yeah, me too. My whole family were lovers of horses. My grandfather was a horse thief. Of course, they hung him, you know. The word is hanged. Hunged? Hanged? Hanged. Hanged? Come to think of it, he was stabbed. Tonight, the story from our skeleton scrapbook of satire is entitled Restaurant. Oh.