Seriously, why did the hare have to be so cocky? The race was his to win. He’s a speedster, and the tortoise is slower than a slug, but that cockiness was the end of him. How can anyone possibly be so cocky to think that a nap wouldn’t be some sort of hindrance to winning an event which requires you to always be moving forward? You don’t nap during a competition just because you’re way, waaaay ahead. That’s being a sore winner.
We all know the story of the tortoise and the hare, but the version we’ve all heard generally ends with the hare realizing he’s lost the race. What is usually neglected is the fact that the tortoise, after beating the hare in the race, became an even bigger sore winner than the hare had been in the first place.
When the hare reached the finish line, the tortoise was already drunk, having consumed nine glasses of champagne and currently in the midst of downing an Irish car bomb. The rest of the animal community had at first been proud of him, and had even joined in for some boozing, but the tortoise had, over the course of about ten minutes, become so obnoxious that the rest of the animals had been turned off, and they gradually abandoned him to let him drink on his own. (They all went to the local tavern to play darts). When the tortoise noticed that his opponent, the hare, had arrived at the finish line, he was sloppily slurring his speech and yelling hurtful, racist remarks.
The hare’s feelings were genuinely hurt, and he felt remorseful for having been so cocky (which he, for the rest of his days, never made the mistake of being again). He congratulated the tortoise, who spit in his face. The hare sighed, then went home to work on his thesis paper (“How Nestlé Raisinets® and The Italian War of 1535 Contributed to Chapman’s Decision to Shoot Lennon”). During the course of his studies, which were surprisingly not going so well, the tortoise repeatedly called him on his home phone and left insulting messages, such as “You literally smell like I would smell if I had lost the race instead of won it, but I don’t smell like that because I’m a winner and you do smell like it because you’re a pathetic, pathetic loser, and a gay,” and “You’re not good.” Once, he left eighteen messages in the span of seventeen seconds.
The hare was extremely upset. He wanted the obscene phone calls to end. He wrote a letter to the tortoise, pleading for peace. In response, the tortoise sent a gift basket. In the gift basket was the body of a dead hare. It belonged to the hare’s wife.
The hare moved to Seattle to escape the tortoise (who, due to being a tortoise, was not imprisoned for murder), but the tortoise cloned himself and sent the clone to Seattle. The clone was even more evil than the tortoise. Cloney (as he was called, not because he was a clone but because that is as close as you are legally allowed to be named to George Clooney, of whom the tortoise was an enormous fan, especially in “The Thin Red Line”) was not above torture. After hearing so much about Chinese water torture, he decided to give it a try on the hare, but then quickly changed his method to hanging, drawing, and quartering, which was once the ordained penalty in England for the crime of high treason. It is also a method that quickly leads to death. Cloney was victorious. The hare was dead.
But the tortoise didn’t stop there. He wrote a novel entitled “Why I’m Ashamed I Engaged in a Series of Acts That Led to the Violent Death of My Friend the Hare.” It was a bestseller. The novel allowed the tortoise to quit his day job (he had been an investment banker) and focus on writing full time. He was adored for his brave and emotional prose. He would later write “Shellshocked” and “1,053 More Things I’d Rather Eat Than That.”
But “Why I’m Ashamed I Engaged in a Series of Acts That Led to the Violent Death of My Friend the Hare” is a satire. It is blatantly obvious throughout the whole 950 pages that the tortoise, ever so sarcastic, was not at all ashamed and in fact elated at the torturous and murderous events that killed off the hare. There was a two-word epilogue. It read, “Goodnight, hare.”
The hare was buried in Arlington National Cemetery. He had been a decorated World War II veteran.