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 #2202592


Dalime
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 Testing.

Randy stepped into the racing store with his old, worn out boot. He needed to find something to help him with horse racing, though he wasn’t sure what. He read the aisle signs. /TRACK/ /SWIMMING/ /BOOTS/ /HORSE RACING/ “AHA!” shouted Randy. Several people stared at him. He didn’t care. He got that a lot. Randy made a turn into the horse racing aisle. Randy took off his shades so that he could see well. A saddle caught his eye. He slipped his shades into his pocket and took the saddle to the cash register.
The cashier told Randy “The saddle fifty dollars.” “Fifty dollars?!” thought Randy. He would have argued but he really wanted the saddle, so he just forked 50 bucks over and left grumbling about how everything used to be cheaper. Randy was awaiting a response letter from the “The Nebraska Races” (Don’t drop your saddle, keep fighting the battle!). He had sent in nine other letters asking to compete in a race, using fake names for each of them (Danny Johnson, Alex Ryans, Robby Doe, etc…) each of them got rejected. He was using his real name for this letter, which was “Randal Ramsey”.
“That saddle was about twenty times more than it was worth” mumbled Randy. “I wonder what’s for dinner” He thought while pushing the door open to his house. He sniffed in a smell that immediately cheered him up. “Breakfast dinner!” shouted Randy. When he sat down his plate was filled with eggs, French toast (with syrup), and chocolate pancakes. But something even more interesting was lying next to his napkin. It was a letter. Randy opened it up expecting a “thank you for attending my party” letter or a birthday card (he just turned 13). But it wasn’t. It was a short letter that read:
Randy Ramzy, you have been accepted into the Nebraska races. You are to take your horse to the stadium on the 13th of March, 1990 (uh-oh. It’s already February!).
Train hard,
The staff of Nebraska Races.

Randy couldn’t believe it. He got accepted into the races! “WOOHOO!!” He shouted and jumped for joy, although that didn’t work out too well, because he was sitting down, so he hit his knee on the bottom of the table. He didn’t notice though. Randy was too happy to notice. His parents weren’t smiling though. In fact, they looked sort of angry. His father was African American, with a mustache any self respecting walrus would be jealous of. His mother was Caucasian with light blonde hair. “You didn’t tell us about this horse race” said his mother. But we think it would be good for your health because you quit hockey added his father. Their frowns turned to smiles. Randy’s mother said “but only on one condition. I dropped my wallet while taking a walk in the woods last night near the creek, and I couldn’t find it. I need you to”. Randy finished his dinner, pulled on his boots, and dashed outside to his best friend’s (Kris) house. He rang the doorbell and David answered. Kris had moved to Nebraska last year from Germany. He was tall, with blue eyes, longish black hair and rarely frowned. Kris had saved Randy from a venomous spitting cobra that broke free from a zoo when he had moved in (that’s how they met). It slithered through an un-noticed broken corner of its cage and spat venom at Randy, but Kris tackled Randy before it hit his eyes. “What’s up?” asked Kris. Randy explained. “Ok, I’ll help. Let me go get my bike”. When Kris got back, they left for the woods. It started to rain… Then it started to pour. “Oh no! Now the trails will be muddy” said Kris. But Randy wouldn’t care about mud unless the wallet seeped through it. Once they got to the woods, the boys parked their bikes against a tree; it was too muddy to keep riding. They followed the creek until it forked into two different directions. They had to jump across it to keep going. Kris jumped first; but it was too far. He fell into the icy water with a “splash!”, and the pouring rain swept him along the creek with the current. Kris tried to swim against it but it was too strong. Randy ran after him as fast as he could. He had to do something to save Kris or Kris would die. It was all down to this. Without even taking his boots off Randy took a breath and dived into the creek. It was no more wet in the water than it was out of it because of the thunder storm. Randy saw Kris’s leg through the murky water and grabbed it. Struggling and splashing, Randy swam to the creek’s bank. They climbed up the side of it. Kris had his arm outstretched and he was holding something brown and wet. At first Randy thought it was a piece of drift wood, but then he looked closer. Kris sputtered ‘I’ve got it. I’ve got the wallet.
Randy couldn’t believe it. How had Kris managed to find the wallet? Regarding the fact that Kris had just been drowning a minute ago, that was hard to believe. “I owe you one Kris” Said Randy. And he MEANT it. Without Kris he wouldn’t be in the races. “Where did you find it?” asked Randy. “It was lying on the bottom of the brook. I was just waving my arms around and I just grabbed it.” That was even harder to believe. “Let’s ride home” suggested Randy.
As soon as Randy got home he started training with his Arabian horse, Licorice. He had no idea what to do though. Randy urged her across the street and she went faster than he knew she could. He did it again and again so Randy decided to start timing it. Their record was 5 seconds. “Wow! You’re a good girl!” said Randy to licorice. Randy gave her an apple and she ate it slowly it began to stop raining and the sun came out. But it was replaced by the moon as they trained harder and harder. When it got too dark to see licorice (she was pitch black) Randy decided to call it a night. He took her to the stable and went inside. He was extremely tired so he just plopped the wallet next to his Mom and went to bed.
March 13th creeped up on Randy like a cat stalking a bird. True, he had trained hard, but he was still nervous. His training schedule was every other day so that Licorice could rest in between. March 5th, March 10th, March 11th and finally, the day before the races. March 12th. It was a rest day, so that Licorice wouldn’t be tired for the race. He had to worry about other things too. Like what would happen if the horse carrying truck that they hired showed up too late? Or what if his saddle snapped while he was racing? He was worrying about all this when he heard his horse neigh louder than usual and all in all, abnormal. He knew something was up when it kept going on, so he ran outside to see what was happening. Somebody was untying the rope that connected Licorice to the stables. “Hey! Stop!” shouted Randy. The stranger saw him, and dashed out of the stables into a scratched up green car, and tried to start it up; it wasn’t working. Randy was running toward the car with a large stick he found on the ground and was cursing the stranger. “Come on… START!” The stranger urged the car on. The car started and the stranger started to drive away. Randy dived at it and managed to grab on to a handle to the door, but the stranger locked the door. Randy kept his grip and broke a window. The stranger drove faster, but it made no difference. Randy was already climbing into the car. A large river was right below them (The car was on a bridge) and the stranger was starting to get nervous. He was driving every which way while randy was still trying to keep his grip on the semi-shattered window and the door handle. The stranger was driving so crazily that he broke through the barriers on the bridge and the car plummeted toward the river. Just in time though, the handle broke off the door from Randy’s weight and he lost his grip. Randy crawled over to the broken part of the bridge and watched the stranger swim away. He was furious; and it added another worry that Randy didn’t think of. What if Licorice got stolen? Randy limped back home (his leg had been hurt in the crash of the bridge). He made up his mind that he WOULDN’T tell his parents about this whole frenzy. They might not let him participate in the race if they knew about his leg. He went through the back door so his parents wouldn’t know he was gone. He went up to his room and started thinking more about Licorice. Then he remembered that he should probably go and make the rope tighter so Licorice couldn’t get away. He didn’t have to go on a wild horse chase with his bad leg.
The next morning was a rush. Randy woke up to the honking of the horse carrier truck and had to put Licorice into it in his pajamas and a bed head. Randy went back inside, ate breakfast, got dressed, took a shower, etc. As soon as he finished all this, Randy had to get in the car and drive to the race. He had the letter in his pocket and he read it over and over again. He wanted to make sure that it said what he remembered it did.



02/01/11  07:49pm

 #2202594


Dalime
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  Message To: Dalime   In reference to Message Id: 2202592


 Testing.

Sorry about that. Just transporting a story from one computer to the other.



02/01/11  07:52pm

 #2215238


Kingsnake Keeper
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  Message To: Dalime   In reference to Message Id: 2202594


 Testing.

Lawl there is a such thing as a flash drive you know.



04/20/11  01:45pm

 #2218993


Dalime
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  Message To: Kingsnake Keeper   In reference to Message Id: 2215238


 Testing.

But i have no Idea how to work all this new fangled technology =)



05/14/11  11:20am


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