When All Else Fails

I bought a race horse and went to the Philharmonica Downs this weekend to run Daisy Chain, for her first race. But Daisy Chain got nervous and refused to get in the racing start gate. I had no choice but to run in her place.

I gave it my all, but within a few seconds I was in last place. Pretty soon the rest of the horses were dots on the horizon. I stopped and started coughing. I had pneumonia last month and I’m not back to Brooks par levels.

But then I heard the crowd cheer me on. People love rooting for the underdog. “Go Brooks Go!!” I swear my heart swelled to twice its size, horse levels, and I sprinted like a lightening bolt.

I caught up to the horses. Soon I was second to last. I got another burst of adrenalin and passed the next horse. I made sure to look each horse in the eye as I caught up to it. Horses freak out when humans give the stare down.

Quickly it was me and Kentucky Kitchen neck and neck in the final stretch. Kentucky Kitchen wouldn’t look at me so I had to rely on 50 yard dash skills I learned when I was a kid at Rolling Valley Elementary, which is basically skipping and singing. It’s humiliating, but increases your speed triple fold.

I won. I was lead to the winner’s circle and a wreath was placed around my neck. I won a year’s supply of Kennel Ration Horse chow, and received large offers to be put out to stud.

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