“Slowpoke! Ha! You’ll never catch me, not in a million billion years! You couldn’t catch a cold!” The Hare danced about, shouting similar taunts and jibes, as the Tortoise carefully placed another foot in front of him. The dirt kicked up from the Hare’s gamboling made him cough.
“Seeya, sucker!” And the Hare was gone, a disappearing dust cloud.
Racoon sighed from the branch overhead. “I wish he’d lose.”
“He will,” said Tortoise calmly.
“Why? Because you’re slow but determined? I think we all know that’s a big crock.”
“No.” Tortoise took another deliberate step. “I poisoned his morning carrot-shake.”
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