Race Time
š RACEDAY CATURDAY: BORN TO RACE! THE FINAL SHOWDOWN!
The sun hangs low over Maulsworld Dirt Track as the final race of Caturday approaches.
What a magnificent day! The grandstands are buzzing, the Royal Shipping Crew is celebrating, and the Castle citizens are enjoying the sights and sounds of another unforgettable afternoon of racing.
The Dogfather raises his clipboard.
THE DOGFATHER: “Gentlemen, a tremendous success! Not one serious incident!”
THE MUSCLE MECHANIC: “And I’d like to keep it that way!”
But behind the Royal Garage, something is happening.
The Viking quietly slips into the cockpit of a magnificent Dirt Late Model.
THE VIKING: “AT LAST! MY CHARIOT AWAITS!”
He turns the ignition.
VROOOOOOOM!
The mighty engine roars to life!
The Viking grins, then glances through the driver’s window.
Beside him sits an enormous orange tabby wearing a racing helmet, perched behind the wheel of a very slow, rather battered box truck.
Across its side, in enormous letters:
NINE LIVES NO BRAKES!
THE VIKING: “GREAT ORANGE WARRIOR! ARE YOU READY?!”
THE EMPEROR: “I WAS BORN READY!”
Together, they roar:
“BORN TO RACE!”
The crowd turns toward the unexpected commotion.
High above the track, Queen Cat Mom calmly adjusts her heart-shaped sunglasses.
QUEEN CAT MOM: “Muscle Mechanic, are the Super Safety Barriers deployed?”
THE MUSCLE MECHANIC: “As you requested, Your Majesty.”
The Queen smiles.
Just as she predicted.
Pegasus spreads his magnificent blue-and-gold wings.
PEGASUS: “A wise Queen prepares for the storm before the thunder.”
THE DOGFATHER: “Should I wave the red flag?!”
QUEEN CAT MOM: “Not yet, darling.”
She settles comfortably into her throne.
QUEEN CAT MOM: “This should be entertaining.”
Down below, the Emperor discovers his truck’s accelerator has been limited to five miles per hour.
THE EMPEROR: “VIKING! WAIT FOR ME!”
THE VIKING: “FOR GLORYYYYY!”
THE DOGFATHER: “Your Majesty, the Viking has won the race!”
THE EMPEROR: “IMPOSSIBLE! I WAS BORN TO RACE!”
THE MUSCLE MECHANIC: “You were driving a box truck at five miles per hour.”
THE EMPEROR: “AND I DIDN’T SPILL A SINGLE DROP OF MY TUNA GRAVY!”
PEGASUS: “A remarkable achievement, in its own way.”
QUEEN CAT MOM: “Well done, darling.”
THE EMPEROR: “THEN I DEMAND A TROPHY!”
THE DOGFATHER: “For what?”
THE EMPEROR: “BEST PERFORMANCE BY A COMMERCIAL VEHICLE!” šš
And somewhere in the grandstands, a mysterious tiger in a gray hood quietly adjusts his glasses.
JUST MAUL: “I really need another cup of coffee.” ā
