"Wasn't that GREAT folks?"
A crowd roars, its noise painfully loud.
He sits up in the seat of the wrecked car
-and realizes he isn't in a car!
Strong studio lights blaze in his face. Beyond them is a shadowy smear where the huge crowd sits, applauding madly, roaring its approval.
The MC waddled over and clapped a hand on his shoulder. He shuddered.
MC Happy Pal smiled out at the crowd, his blue sequined coat spangling and sparkling against sun glare of the spotlights. His tiny microphone looping to his mouth was a flesh colored bead, its electronics powerful but tiny.
"THIS GUY! SMASHED HIS WAY THROUGH THE ROMAN ARENA, SWUNG HIS WAY OVER THE JUNGLE OF DEATH, MATCHED WITS WITH THE MOST OUTRAGEOUSLY VAGUE AND WEAK ANCIENT PHILOSOPHERS... AND THEN RACED DOWN THE FOREST ROAD, RIGHT TO THE FINISH LINE! A WINNER! YES! YES! YES!"
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