Random paragraph #10

Methodically, Frank went about his work... first repositioning the trailer, then moving on to the beast... For three years he had been planning this from his cubicle on the 11th floor of the Gellman building... the idea blissfully coming to him one day as he watched the policeman's horse lazily feed by the bank of a small stream... he had worked out every possible permutation of the events that would follow... knew every conceiveable scenerio, every calculation (to at least the third decimal point)... he was, after all, one of the most respected... nay, feared... accountants ever to pick up a calculator at Stern and Devanovich. And as his watch neared the zero hour, Frank quietly began to laugh... a soft, unnatural chuckle that would have set anyone around him at unease... not that anyone would have been there of course...  Frank took care of that... the countdown was on, and in a moment, Frank would pull a carrot from his front shirt pocket, and leading the horse a little further back from the water's edge, commit the most defiant act against the logic of man that he could think of... he, Frank Bowman, with reckless disregard for the consequences... would put the cart before the horse.