To their credit, the laborers have no heart in their task. "I thought you and your fellows were quite good last night," one of them whispers in your ear as they tie your hands to the top of the post.
"We saw it from the back, near the kitchen steps," the other explains.
"Why, thank you…did you have a favorite paaaaaaaaaaart—"
Apparently the time for conversation ended for them more quickly than it did for you. You close your eyes and grit your teeth through the strokes.
Alack