The next morning, Gobo was making some last minute adjustments to Wembley's pickle car. While he was doing that, Marlon walked by.
"Hi, Marlon," Gobo said. "Got your car all ready for the race?"
"I sure do," Marlon said. Then he saw the pickle. "What in the world . . . ."
"An oversized pickle," Gobo explained.
"I see," Marlon said, studying the car. "Looks very aerodynamic. It's small size would mean less wind resistance, and allow it to go faster. Mind if I look inside?"
Before Gobo could answer, Marlon hopped into the driver's seat of the pickle and looked around inside it.
"Oooh, this is hollowed out almost all the way through!" he shouted.
"Yeah, I know," Gobo said. "There wasn't any room for the pedals otherwise."
Marlon began to get nervous. He did some mental calculating, and realized that this pickle car would probably out run his green pepper car.
"I've got to go, Gobo!" he shouted. "My pepper needs a bit more adjustments. Such as hollowing it out a little more!"
"Okay, Marlon," Gobo said, polishing up the pickle with his sleeve. "But you don't want to hollow it out too much. If the chassis is too thin, you could accidentally put your foot through it when it's time to hit the brakes, and you could lose the pedals. Not to mention hurt your feet."
"Thanks for the advice, Gobo," Marlon said. "See you later!"
With that, Marlon ran off. Gobo shrugged, and went to go find Wembley so they could get to work on Gobo's carrot car.
Marlon, meanwhile, was pacing around his cave, certain Gobo was going to drive the pickle in the race.
"What am I going to do?" he asked himself. "I don't want to hollow out my pepper to make it lighter. Knowing my rotten luck at the Fraggle Five Hundred, if I do, I'll wind up putting my feet through it like Gobo said. I also can't convince Gobo to trade cars with me. He's so competitive, he'll definitely want to drive the fastest vegetable. And even if I talked him out of the race, there's still Red, who's just as competitive as Gobo is. Not to mention this year, Wembley is entered in the race, and whatever car he's driving is bound to go fast, since it won't be hauling much weight. Then there are the other Fraggles who are entered, too. How am I ever going to win this race?"
Marlon continued pacing back and forth. He had to do something, and he had to do it fast. Finally, he came up with an idea.
"I know what I'll do!" he shouted. Then he began rubbing his hands together, in a mix of evil and glee. "I'll cheat! I'd better get started, though. The race is tomorrow, and I have to make sure nobody sees me!"
Immediately, Marlon got to work. The first thing he did was hang an arrow on a cave wall at the track, pointing toward a dead end tunnel. Then, he dug a hole in the track, and covered it with sticks and dirt so it wouldn't be seen. Then, he rigged up a rope going across the race track, which (Marlon figured) would act like a slingshot, sending the car of who hit it backwards. Then he took some of Boober's vegetable oil and spread it around the track. Then Marlon moved on to the cars themselves. They were all lined up at the starting line, ready and raring to go. He wasn't going to do any sabotage to all of the cars, however. That would make him look suspicious. He cut a giant wedge out of the mushroom wheel of one car, poured a bucket of water over the mushroom wheels of another, in order to make them mushy and not fit to drive on, cut open a makeshift trunk in another, and filled it with rocks, hollowed out as much as he could out of another, and finally, loosened one of the back wheels of the pickle car, as he was still under the impression that it was going to be driven by Gobo.
"I hate to be this sneaky, but I'm a desperate Fraggle here," he said. "I'll win the Fraggle Five Hundred if it's the last thing I ever do!"
Marlon gave out an evil laugh, and then snuck back to his cave before someone came out and caught him in the act of cheating.
Bright and early the next morning, the entire Rock was gathered on the race track of the Fraggle 500. The drivers were about ready to approach their cars. Marlon approached Red, and got a little too close for comfort, in her opinion.
"Hey, Red," he said, with a slight laugh. "How about a kiss for good luck?"
"Eeewww!" Red shouted, pushing Marlon away from her. "Don't make me sick!"
Marlon just shrugged, and walked over to his car. On his way, he passed Gobo.
"Hello, Gobo," he said, in somewhat of a sing-song voice.
"Uhh, hi, Marlon," Gobo said, looking at the squinty-eyed Fraggle, a little confused.
"Lovely day for a race, isn't it?"
"Yeah, sure is."
"Good luck today. You'll need it. Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh!"
Gobo gave Marlon a weird look, shrugged, and climbed into his car.
"Ladies and gentle-fraggles!" Henchy Fraggle shouted into a megaphone. "Here's the World's Oldest Fraggle to introduce this year's entries in the Fraggle Five Hundred!"
A round of cheers and applause went up as the World's Oldest Fraggle took the megaphone from Henchy.
"Entry number one!" he shouted. "Mokey Fraggle in the Eggplant Excelerator! Entry number two, Red Fraggle in the Radish Roadster! Entry number three, Phil Fraggle in the Turbo Turnip! Entry number four, Pedley Fraggle in the Pedal Powered Parsnip!"
"Forgive me for saying this, your ancient-ness," Henchy said, rubbing spit out of his eye, "but think maybe next time, you can say it, and not spray it?"
"Oh keep quiet!" the World's Oldest Fraggle shouted, bopping Henchy's nose with his cane. "Entry number five, Gillis Fraggle in the Rocket Rutabaga! Entry number six, Feenie Fraggle in the Zippy Zucchini! Entry number seven, Rumple Fraggle in the Blast Off Beet! Entry number eight, Marlon Fraggle in the Greased Lightning Green Pepper! Entry number nine, Gobo Fraggle in the Carrot Cruiser! And last, but not least, making his debut in the Fraggle Five Hundred, Wembley Fraggle in the Pickle-Mobile!"
"What?!" Marlon shouted. "You . . . you mean Wembley's driving the pickle? I thought Gobo was driving the pickle! I saw him working on it!"
"That's because I was helping Wembley build his car," Gobo said. "This is his first race, after all."
"Yeah, Marlon," Wembley said. "I didn't know the first thing about building a racing vegetable for the Fraggle Five Hundred!"
"Eep!" Marlon squeaked, but it was such a tiny squeak, nobody heard him. He began to get nervous, and then he took a deep breath.
"It will be all right," he muttered to himself. "After all, the plan is that he'll notice the wheel is loose, and he'll have to stop and tighten it. Nothing to worry about. No big deal."
"Fraggles get on your mark!" the World's Oldest Fraggle shouted, as Morris Fraggle took a checkered flag and walked out to the starting line.
"Get set!" the World's Oldest Fraggle shouted. "GO!"
Morris waved the flag, and the Fraggle 500 was underway. However, only Mokey, Red, Gillis, Feenie, Marlon, Gobo, and Wembley sped off. The minute Phil made a full turn of his wheels, his car thumped, and stopped dead. He got out to see what the trouble was, and found a giant wedge had been sliced out of one of the wheels.
"How am I supposed to drive with a quarter of my wheel gone?!" he shouted.
"Look at the way that wheel's been cut!" Boober shouted, sounding a bit perturbed. "It's ruined! It's not even fit for a rumble bug to eat!"
Pedley wasn't going anywhere fast, either. His parsnip was so heavy, he could barely pedal it!
"It wasn't this heavy when I drove it out to the starting line last night!" he shouted, straining. But he continued to pedal anyway. He didn't think about stopping to check why it was so heavy. If he had, he would have seen that someone filled it with rocks.
"Looks like everyone's going to finish this race before Pedley even starts," Boober said.
Rumple wasn't having much luck, either. His wheels where spinning, but he wasn't getting anywhere. He did, however, notice that bits of mushroom were flying around as he pedaled.
"What the . . . ." he said. He finally got out of his car, and found that his back wheels were completely flat, not to mention waterlogged.
"Okay!" he shouted. "Who's the wise Fraggle that watered my wheels?!"
"Ugh!" Boober grimaced. "If there's one thing I can't stand, it's mushy mushrooms!"
"I hope the others are having better luck than Phil, Pedley, and Rumple," Lou Fraggle said, looking through a pair of binoculars to see the action along the track.
At the moment, Gobo was in the lead, with Red and Wembley closely behind him. Gillis was approaching the line up fast, followed by Mokey, Feenie, and Marlon, bringing up the rear. Marlon growled, and began pedaling harder. He swerved in front of Feenie so fast, Feenie braked his zucchini as hard as he could. He slammed the pedals so hard, he wound up pushing them through his car, and they rolled down the track. He had been completely unaware that it had been hollowed out more than it needed to be (courtesy of Marlon and his sabotage). Feenie lost them, and was unable to continue, since the pedals were attached to the front wheel.
"Uh oh," he said. "I broke my brakes!"
"Oooh, that's a tough break!" Boober shouted, looking through Lou's binoculars.
After Marlon passed Feenie, he sped up his pedaling, and passed Wembley. He figured he could keep ahead of him for the time being. Mokey was next, and she was approaching the sign Marlon planted turning off to another tunnel. Gobo, Red, and Gillis didn't pay any attention to it.
"Hmm, must be a detour," Mokey said. Then she turned her car down the tunnel. Marlon snickered, and pressed on in the correct direction.
"By the time she realizes she went the wrong way, the race will be over!" he shouted, and he sped up, in order to catch up with the other Fraggles.
Mokey drove her eggplant down the tunnel, and wound up at the dead end. She looked around, and scratched her head, wondering what in the world had happened.
"Hmmm," she said. "I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. I wonder if I have my map of the track with me."
Mokey then began to search the pockets of her sweater in order to find the map of the Fraggle 500 track. That was going to take her a little while.
The next pitfall out on the track was the vegetable oil. Gillis managed to pull ahead of Red and Gobo, and was now in the lead. Unfortunately, that was going to be short lived. He didn't notice the oil in the road, and was heading right for it. Gobo had, however.
"Gillis, watch out for that oil!" he shouted.
"Can't fool me, Gobo!" Gillis sang. "I know how competitive you . . . arrrrrrgh!"
Gillis had hit the oil right in mid-sentence, and he lost control of his rutabaga. He tried to apply his brakes, but he only would up spinning in a complete circle, before skidding into the side of the wall, flattening one of his wheels into a mushroom pancake.
"That's it! I quit!" he shouted. "From now on, I'm walking!"
Before he left, however, Gillis pulled his car over to the oil slick, covered it, and scratched "Watch Out For Oil Slick" into the rutabaga so no one else would slip. Then he began walking back to the Great Hall.
"Good thing Gillis wasn't hurt," Lou said.
"I'll say," Boober said. "Skidding on that oil could have caused a nasty accident! Though I was wondering what happened to my vegetable oil. How did it get on the track?"
"Beats me," Lou said, shrugging, as she handed her binoculars to Boober so he could watch what was going to happen next.