In late '85, I was poised to become the champion of the Cub Scouts Pack 20 Pinewood Derby. My car was fast; it easily won every race that day. It was also the best looking pinewood racer at the whole derby. It was slick and sporty with a dark maroon paint job, pinstripes and a spoiler. No other car looked anything like it.
I knew that I was unstoppable and so did everyone else in attendance. It felt good to be a winner. After a less than spectacular performance the previous year, my current success (albeit as part of a new pack) was pretty satisfying.
With only minutes before the final race, I was already envisioning where my dual trophies would go (one for total speed dominance, the second for looks). Little did I know that an unexpected event would rob me of my glory...
To Be Continued
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