and alastair, at the end of every day – every one – he would come over, and he would make me an offer: to take me off the rack if i put souls on. if i started the torturing. and every day, i told him to stick it where the sun shines. FOR THIRTY YEARS, i told him: but then i couldn’t do it anymore, sammy; i couldn’t. and i got off that rack. GOD HELP ME: i got right off it, and i started ripping them apart. i lost count of how many souls.