It was Pennywinkle Camp Racing Duo day! I had waited all summer for this, and I wasn’t going to let my partner, Clyve, mess it up this year.

Soon I was side by side with Clyve in the Go-Kart; I at the wheel, he in the passenger seat. The referee was counting down – now was my chance. I pulled out the Kukri knife I had stolen from Father, and without hesitation, plunged it into Clyve’s supple belly. He let choked out a blood-gurgling shout of agony. The knife still protruding from his bleeding abdomen, I grabbed the wheel. It’s time to go win a trophy!

Right away, number 6, “Hasty Jake”, pulled into the lead; but that was to be predicted. Jake’s kart had great acceleration, but not great top speed. I veered around the first curve, cutting off two people and nabbing third place, right off the bat!
As I reached the final straightaway, the crowd cheered and the wind rushed through my ears, as I dropped the pedal to the metal. I winked at Hasty Jake as I cruised by him, and across the finish line. Victory!