“Yeah. A horse-sized problem. Beetlebum over there keeps trying to bite me.” The horse tossed its head in a mighty nod, then nickered evilly. “Likes the taste of ham, I guess,” said Swire. “That’s Mr. Prosciutto to you, pal.” “He’s just kidding around. If he really wanted to bite, you’d know it. Like I said, he’s got a sense of humor, just like you.”
