by Joey Croft
I am Abraham Lincoln, the 16th president of the united states, and my biggest regret in life is my defeat at the hands of that dastardly villain Jeremiah Bog n the 1826 county footrace. I trained for several fortnights in preparation of this contention of the highest caliber, but to my dismay I only finished the event in 5th place.
It was a bright summer's day in the middle of June. The birds chirruped mirthfully, the grass billowed in the warm summer's breeze, and the feral weasels frolicked majestically trough the sunflower fields as we all gathered on a line drawn in the dirt of the town's only road. I looked over to my right and saw that the vile repulsive scoundrel, Jeremiah Bog, had been arranged adjacent to myself. “Ha Ha, Lincoln, If you have the preconceived notion that you, a simple commoner, would overcome someone of my incredible grandness then I am afraid that you sir, shall feel the bitter taste of crushing disappointment this day.” he said. “Well I surmise that we will have to wait on the results of this race.” I replied. “Indeed.” he retorted with a smirk. “All runners get prepared, the race will start at the sound of the musket.” ,said the host of the event, “Three, Two, One...” Boom! Just as the musket fired we all dashed forward at full speed! I ran with all the strength that I could muster, the scenery was a blur as I dashed toward the finish. I was shocked as a ferocious weasel lounged toward my head. I managed to duck out of its path just in time, but the runner behind me was not so lucky. As I came closer to the bend in the road (and farther away from the screams of the unfortunate competitor) I caught up to Jeremiah. “Heh Heh Heh,” he chuckled, “Well, Lincoln I have to say I did not anticipate that you would even last a few petty moments before collapsing to the ground defeated. I must say your efforts are commendable but , I'm afraid, your progress ends here!” “What?” I replied as he swept my...