Little Boy stared out of his window, tapping his fingers restlessly on the sill. Shakespeare, slouched in a nearby armchair, sighed heavily. The city seemed endless, yet there was nothing to do.
"What if we race?" LB suggested, a spark of mischief lighting up his eyes.
"Race?" Shakespeare lifted an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Yeah, down the streets! I'll use my plane, but don’t worry, I won’t fly. I'll just roll it on the ground," LB explained, grinning.
Shakespeare arrived with his sleek race car, its engine purring like a contented cat. LB positioned his plane at the starting line, its wings awkwardly spread over the pavement.
"Remember, no flying," Shakespeare reminded, playfully nudging LB.
"Of course! Now, let's see who’s faster," LB replied, adjusting his goggles.
With a countdown, they both launched forward, the roar of engines mingling with the cheers of imaginary spectators.
LB's plane rumbled backwards unexpectedly, causing him to laugh as he tried to regain control.
"LB, wait up!" Shakespeare called out, struggling to catch up.
"This is a RACE. When do you expect me to wait up?" LB shouted back, enjoying the thrill of the competition.
"When you wait up," Shakespeare teased, momentarily hopping out and back into his car as they continued their wild dash through the cityscape.
In a blinding flash, they broke through the world barrier, a cosmic ripple sending them hurtling into Cowboy Town. The sky above was a brilliant expanse of stars, and the dusty streets echoed the clinks of spurs and distant harmonica tunes.
LB shot through like a comet, disappearing as quickly as he arrived, while Shakespeare sputtered to a halt near an old saloon.
Shakespeare climbed out of his car, greeted by the inquisitive gaze of The Sheriff, a weathered figure with a badge glinting in the moonlight.
"What brings you speeding through these parts?" The Sheriff asked, his voice a gravelly drawl.
"Abe Lincoln hosted the race," Shakespeare fibbed, hoping to charm his way out of trouble.
"Is that so?" The Sheriff replied, unconvinced.
The Sheriff led Shakespeare to a cell, the door creaking as it swung shut.
"Little Boy is lucky," Shakespeare muttered to himself, contemplating the absurdity of the day.
The lesson in honesty lingered as Shakespeare settled into the quiet of the night, the sounds of Cowboy Town a gentle reminder of his wild, unintended journey.
