On the first of February 2011, in a one bedroom apartment in Montreal, Canada, a married couple was asleep in bed naked. There was a red haired woman named Izzy, and a brown haired man named Harold. The two of them were just starting to wake up, as they could vaguely see the sun starting to rise behind their bedroom curtain. The two of them got up to look at each other, while holding hands. "Good morning big H" said Izzy. "Same to you sexy" said Harold. "So, you coming back to compete next season?" asked Izzy. "Hell yes, I gotta make up for that falloff I had during the chase" said Harold. "Well this time, i'll be standing beside you the entire time" said Izzy. "Okay, just try not to make any of the other contestants feel uncomfortable with an over abundance of sex jokes" said Harold.

Far away, in the middle of an open field, sat a black haired girl wearing a pink dress, pink gloves, and a pink bow. The girls name was Ella. She was sitting there, feeling very depressed. She was currently talking to herself. "It just doesn't seem right, why do I feel angry at a father who means well?" "Why do I feel any kind of anger at anyone period?" "My entire life, i've always wanted to resolve things peacefully, but I don't know about this one." "What kind hearted father would pretend his own child doesn't exist?" "Somehow, Dwayne seems to be on the same level as Chris." A butterfly then flew up to her, and landed on her shoulder. "Oh hello, it's you again" she said in a sad tone. "The two of us keep seeming to run into each other." "So, are we of the same opinion that Jay has turned savage?" "I get that he was protecting his bird, but he could have done it without violence." "I still have nightmares about a bleeding Chris."

Over in a town known as Mount Sword, a 15 year old boy was sitting in a room full of NASCAR merchandise. There were die-casts, posters, VHS tapes, DVD's, Blu-ray's, action figures, sponsor decals, used Goodyear racing eagles, cardboard cutouts, video games, and a racing simulator. The 15 year old looked as though someone had beaten the crap out of him. He had blonde hair, was wearing a pair of pants with a checkered flag pattern on them, and a black #11 Denny Hamlin shirt. His face, was completely screwed up. Nearly every inch of it was covered in stitches. The boys name, was Dwayne Junior. His head was hurting, and he could barely keep his eyes open. For months, he had been dealing with a really bad head injury. Instead of resting like a normal person would, he was instead competing in various competitions across America. During the last one, his face was sliding on solid asphalt. His face was cut open, he was severely bleeding, but it was all worth it in the end. He had been declared the champion of the inaugural season, of the race around the states. In the far corner of the room, was his championship trophy. The trophy was 10 feet tall, made of brass, and was in the shape of a medieval goblet. There was a handle on each side. Toward the top of the trophy in black letters were the words: RACE AROUND THE STATES. On the base of the trophy, was a brass plate. Carved into the plate were the words: DWAYNE MARCUS SANTORI II 2010 CHAMPION. Junior had not been back in this room since he returned to Canada and placed the trophy in the corner. He had never really taken the chance to sit down and admire it. Throughout his life, he had seen several athletes on tv winning trophies. He never thought he would be able to win one of his own. Looking at his award, struggling to keep his eyes open, he remembered all of the hell he went through to win this. He then stopped looking at the trophy, and began looking at the ceiling. He then began talking to someone, even though it seemed like nobody was there. "You know, I still can't believe that I won." "I mean think about it, not many minors are able to beat a bunch of adults at tough competitions like this." "I can't think of anyone else in this world who would attempt what I just did, with a severely fractured skull." "I'm not going to lie, every night I still cried myself to sleep." "But I kept reminding myself what I was trying to get, and I kept reminding myself that you were rooting for me." "I would not be in the position i'm in right now, if it wasn't for you." "My head is still hurting though, any second it feels like i'm going to throw up." "But at some point, all of this pain will go away." "And long after that, i'll be able to give you another hug." "Alright, I have school." "Talk to you later." He then got up with a little struggle, and slowly made his way out of the room.

Zip-a-dee-doo-dah zip-a-dee-yay

My oh my, what a beautiful day.

"OH MY GOD, WILL YOU PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP!" shouted an angry voice. The voice belonged to a boy wearing brown pants, and a blue hoodie. He also had a prosthetic hand. His name was Jay. Right next to him was his twin Mickey. He wore green pants, had a lighter blue hoodie, and a helmet with several names written on it. He also had two eye patches where his eyes should be. The two of them were seated at a table in a restaurant. They were unfortunate to have accidentally chosen one of those restaurants where the waiters sing to you. "I came here for food, I did not come here for racist music" said Jay. "I especially did not come here to meet the asshole from the fourth grade, who threw a rock at my balls, and shattered my pelvis." "Jay, is that you?" asked the very ugly waiter with the birthmark on his forehead shaped like someone giving the middle finger. "Oh, so you haven't been watching tv, you know who I am" snapped Jay. "It's a shame I wasn't able to kill you then, but I can now" said the waiter. As he was pulling out a gun in his pocket, Jay punched him in the face with his prosthetic hand, killing him instantly.

2 Hours later

Jay was currently sitting at the police station, explaining everything to the police. "Alright, several witnesses at the restaurant claimed that he was reaching for his gun" said a very fat cop. "You were defending yourself, we won't arrest you for murder." "Just so you know, I didn't have to come quietly, I could have broken those cuffs" said Jay. "You can't break those cuffs" said the cop. "Put me back in handcuffs, i'll prove it" said Jay. The cop re-cuffed him, and Jay did just that. "Ah shit" said the cop.

Authors note: That song may not be racist to some people, but Disney clearly thinks it's racist. They still have yet to put Song of the south on Disney plus.

Do not attempt what Jay just did. If someone is reaching for a gun, get the hell away from them. Self defense should only be used as a last resort.

Thank you for reading and please have a great day.