Last time on The Pug That Always Finished Second, Trinket competed in Dogpalooza. After defeating 3 straight opponents, he fell to the first ever tug-of-war champion, Rascal. What will happen next?
Rascal's Journal
March 27, 2006
I wake up and find myself still basking in the glow of victory. Oh, how sweet the taste. You see, I eat like no other. I feast on those below my level. I crush their hopes and dreams, and they taste like warm, sweet vanilla to my senses. I wash it down with tears of frustration, and I eat my dessert, power and glory sorbet. Yes, I, Rascal, am a true champion, and there is nothing anyone can do about it.
Trinket's Journal
March 27, 2006
I force myself out of bed. For what must be the thousandth time, I remind myself it was one competition. I did all I could. I really needed to move on, but I couldn't make myself do it. I really needed someone to snap me out of it. I pressed the button to open my crate. This technology, I thought, really is quite impres- which is as far as I got as an invisible flying something collided into me, sending me flying against the wall. I peered out, expecting to see maybe a human or a wolf. No such luck.
"Morning, loser!" Bucky cried. I gave a sigh. Did I ever mention I didn't like him all that much?
"What do you mean, loser?" I asked quizzically. I thought he wasn't supposed to be at Dogpalooza.
"I was there." Huh? "I was disguised as a singing Frenchie. Remember me?" Now I remember. This had been the competition before mine. A Frenchie had sung, "Don't Stop Believing" and had won first prize. Bucky showed me his medal. "Finally, I got a first place medal. Up next, first place in the race."
"Are you going to get practicing?" I wondered aloud.
"Actually, yes. Mom is ready, and she wants you to come with us for me to race against. So if you want to race, we better get going." And this is how I found myself, 30 minutes later, having just finished racing against Bucky.
He was getting better, I could see it. I had trouble against him, so any pug would have more trouble than I did. He seemed to have some good sprints going, and he was very focused. I had to admit it. He might just win this race. I shook my head. Whose knows what the other racers would be like.
"Trinket, Bucky, come see this," Mom called from her computer. She had a video up of a pug racing. "Her name is Leia, and she is the fastest pug racer in history. She's your competition. You'll have to beat her to win."
Bucky pulled me aside. "You think you can race like this pug? To mimic how she acts in a race?" He asked.
"Yes, with time I probably could." I answered.
"Then let's get started."
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