"Yeah, good luck to you." Micheal answered back to Douglas, smiling as he turned back to Diane. "I need to get ready too, actually." He admitted, giving her a kiss. "Don't think I'm gonna go easy on you, by the way." he told he, running off.<br/><br/><br/>He walked up a machine, colored a deep red. It...looked weird. The torso was just a bunch of metal plates arranged together, the arms looked like the flippers of a sea turtle, with large, circular devices on the ends. The "head" was simply a piece of metal in a V shape, with the point being thicker then the lines, and the legs were short and stubby. "What WAS dad thinking?" Michael asked himself,  sighing. Maybe he should of taken something else....<br/><br/>"Your dad?" A voice asked, Mchael turning around. It was the blond hair punk from earlier, the one who made him feel bad. "Yeah, my dad. I have one. What do you want?" Michael asked, his hair turning a darker red to express his slight anger at the guy! "....It's not finished." The blond said, crossing his arms as he looked over the crimson machine. "..What." Michael gaped. Yes it was! Perfectly finished.<br/><br/>"I brought a machine from Mr. Gerwold a few months ago and saw this in his hangar. He mentioned it was having some troubles and it would take a few monthes to get fixed."<br/><br/>Michael looked at him.  Then at the machine. Then at the ground.<br/><br/>And laughed. "Well, that's fine with me! I'll win even If the machine isn't finished! Or, at the very least, beat you, because you've gone and pissed me off!" He exclaimed, pointing at the blond's face. The blond rolled his eyes, slapping the finger out of his way.<br/><br/>"Gerald June. Go ahead, you failing about in last place is going to be funny." He said, walking past Michael. "Michael Gerwold, and I'm not gonna hit last last even ONCE." He shot back, moving forwards. as the two crossed path, they shot a look at eachother, spocks glaring from their eyes.<br/><br/>----<br/><br/>"Here we go here we go HERE WE GO." Michael yelled, waiting patiently in his machine. They were in the starting line,  and it was about to begin. He closed his eyes, counting down with the announcer.<br/><br/>3<br/><br/>2<br/><br/>1<br/><br/>"GO!"