The Spanish Pink Tornado Eats Canadian Pixie Dust

“Who wants to race?”

“You?  Or you?”

“Oh, that’s sweet.  The little lady is up for a challenge.  Look at those itty bitty wheels.  Ok Abby, I’ll humor you.”

“Just call me the Pink Tornado”

“I’ll just call you “SLOW ASS”.  Enough talk Spanish-boy.  Let’s race!”

“On your mark, get set, GO!”

“Oh dear.  This 80’s velour sweater isn’t as aerodynamic as anticipated.  Perhaps I should have increased my altitude training. “

“We’re at sea level SLOW ASS!  Stop talking and start peddling!

“Abby wait!  I didn’t account for climatic conditions and I forgot my energy bars!”

“Then just EAT MY DUST, chorizo butt!”

“Must be the difference in oxygen levels.  I’ll just get my pit-crew to adjust the seat configuration.  Are these handle bars carbon fibre?  How can I compete with less than state of the art materials?  Note to self:   Ask Mommy to install a bell. “

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