One breaks a butterfly on a wheel. So elaborate a means for so simple a task. A wheel when two fingers would have done the job. But then, the sight of that puny creature squirming frantically on that massive device is, one has to admit, a pleasurable one. A display of immense power, meant to inflict excruciating pain, whatever the size and strength of the victim may be.
Pleasure. That's what it's about. Not redundancy. Not stupidity. Just pleasure, emerging from the deepest recesses of one's twisted mind.
