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Regulation of the species
7.: You nervous?
4.: Nah. I mean, I've been competing since I was a fetus. I don't get nervous.
7.: I'm nervous. It's my seventeenth race, but you know. I still get the willies.
4.: Not me. I worry about falling when I ski to the starting line, but that's all.
7.: Ooh, 52 is going! Let's watch. I love the way he does those nifty tricks. See, I can't do tricks, so I'm always a last-placer. But I'm happy just to be here.
4.: Right. Right.
7.: There he goes...wow, look at how fast he's going.
4.: His top speed last year was, like, sixty-seven miles per hour.
7.: Whoa. What's your top speed?
4.: Oh. Eighty-one miles per hour.
7.: Dang.
4.: What's yours?
7.: Uh, I snowplow. Like the whole way down. So they've never been able to really measure my speed. Something about me not going in a straight line.
4.: ... Uh-huh.
7.: See, look at him go! You think he's going to hit the tree and all, but he's so good --
4.: -- that he'll go right by it without you noticing that he's adjusted his course. I know. He's so --
7.: (screams)
4.: Oh, God.
7.: (covers eyes) He didn't, did he?
4.: He...he hit the tree.
7.: I can't look.
4.: Oh, my God. I've never seen so much blood.
7.: I can't look.
4.: I think that his leg popped off. Oh, crap, I'm going to vomit.
7.: What was that? What was that?
4.: I think someone just yelled 'timber'.
7.: What's that cracking noise?
4.: (censored). The, uh...the tree he hit just fell over. On top of him. And a paramedic.
7.: I can't look.
4.: Okay, so there's a guy with a chainsaw -- wow, he's cutting that tree apart really fast. ... Dang. I mean, they've got the body parts off of the snow already, and -- wow. They're already towing him away on a snowmobile.
7.: I'm not looking.
4.: Actually, you can look now. The tree is gone, and the body is gone, and the paramedics are gone, and they blew fresh snow over all of the blood.
7.: (opens eyes) Did I just dream all of this?
4.: No.
7.: I wish I had.
4.: Oh, hey. The announcer just called your number. You're up.
7.:
4.:
7.:
4.: Yeah, well. Good luck.
7.: You go.
4.: Me? No. I race tomorrow.
7.: I'm not going.
4.: You should go.
7.: I'm terrified.
4.: Face your fear. Pretend nothing happened. Because nothing did.
7.: ... I don't know.
4.: You can do it. Just snowplow.
7.: Snowplow. ... You're right. Okay.
4.: Good luck.
4.: Oh, God. I'm forfeiting. This is too much.
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