Two adolescent boys stood shoulder to shoulder, smirking slightly as they looked down the runway with undivided determination.

"Scared Jones?" asked the shorter of the two, his red eyes flashing.

"Please, Beilschmidt. I was born for this." said the other in an overconfident tone.

"Gentlemen" said a boy, slightly older than the two racers, with long blond hair and a French accent. "Start your engines." He announced loudly, holding up a checkered beach towel as a makeshift flag.

"Im not sure this is a good idea." stampered another blond from inside the first boy's shopping kart.

"Yeah." agreed the other boy sitting in the second shopping kart, knees pulled in close to his body. "How did you twats rope me into this in the first place?"

The boy let out an obnoxiously loud laugh and bopped him in the head. "Don't worry Arthur, you're riding with a professional here!"

"Hurry up." urged a dark Italian boy from the aisle, holding up his cell phone, ready to record. "Before the manager comes back and yells at us again!"

"Im still scared Gil." The anxious boy said again. "What if we get in trouble."

"Do it for the youtube video, Mattie!" Gilbert cried, leaning over the bar of the shopping car.

"Trois..." the French boy began to count. "deux...un! GO!"

SCREECH. The boys exploded from their starting positions and rocketed down the aisle.

"GO! GO! GO!" Cheered Lovi and Francis, who had taken bets before the race began.

"And they're coming up 'round the bend!" Lovi narrated, running to get a better view.

The karts' wheels squealed urgently as the two boys swung around a line of freezers, and out of the frozen foods section. Arthur clung to the sides of Alfred's kart as it threatened to tip.

"Bloody hell!" He exclaimed, "Keep us upright, Alfred!"

"Im trying!" the boy who was pushing the car yelled, knocking the kart in the opposite direction to steady it.

"We're winning!" cried Gilbert, his brow knit in determination, a cocky smile on his face.

"Gilbert! Look out!"

Whoosh. Gilbert ducked just in the nick of time as a beach ball flew over his head. He looked back. Arthur had grabbed the ball as he and Alfred zipped past the "summer fun" display.

"Hey! No projectiles!" yelled Francis.

Gilbert pretended to not have heard him as he swiped a line of notebooks from the "back-to-school" section.

"Give 'vem hell Birdie!" he yelled to the boy.

Matthew picked up a pink spiral and chucked it past Gilbert, landing a hit in his brother's face.

"I did it!" He yelled with joy, smiling from ear to ear, and picking up another.

"Uck!" Alfred cried. "These glasses ain't cheap 'ya know!"

Wham! Another flying projectile slammed into him, momentarily blinding the boy.

"We're under attack!" Arthur shouted as they swung another corner. "Quick! Cut them off through that aisle over there!"

Alfred obeyed. "Hang on!" He cried as he cut out in front of the other team's kart. They nearly dodged a collision, the force almost enough to throw Mattew clear out of the kart.

"Hey, watch it!" Gilbert hollered, trying to steady his kart before they slammed into a display of miscellaneous items.

"And they're coming up to the finish line, neck-in-neck!" announced Lovino, filming with an intensity unrivaled by the great commentators of the racetrack. "Alfred and Arthur are in the lead... will they the others be able to catch up in the final stretch?"

"Hey!" yelled a woman dressed in a blue Walmart apron and khakis. "What are you boys doing in here?!"

"Crap! They got us!" snarled Alfred, pushing harder on his kart.

"Go faster! Go faster!" Arthur urged, clinging over the edge of the kart, hoping to use his weight to gain momentum.

"Look at that: Gilbert and Matthew are pulling up along our leaders. Can they recover from their serious loss of time?"

"Hey you!" the woman yelled. "Just what do you think you're doing."

"Shit." said Lovino before pulling Francis away before his French friend could try and charm his way out of trouble.

"I see the exit!" Matthew announced pointing towards the pair of automatic doors.

"Change of plans!" yelled Alfred, now pushing his kart like a scooter, and riding on the lower bar. "First ones to get out wins!"

"HEY!" the manager yelled, now chasing the boys at a full sprint. "GET BACK HERE!"

Romano and Francis dashed to the doors, and opened them with the floor sensors, just as the four kart racers sped through them at full speed, and out the door.