This week’s #writephoto prompt is
‘Is this doping control, Bunny?’
‘Yes, and stop calling me bunny.’
There was a pause while Cony Thumper and Terry Terapin eyed each other. ‘I won you know.’
‘You crossed the line first.’
Cony stretched up onto his hind legs and eyed the Testudinidae with distaste. ‘It’s my title, you overblown snail.’
‘I think you’ll find they have my name at the top of the board, oh floppy eared stew filler.’
Terry pointed at the line of booths currently occupied by other athletes giving urine samples. ‘I think everything will become clear when we’ve been tested.’
‘Yeah. It’ll prove you just a big footed rodent.’
‘It’ll prove you were doping.’
‘It’ll prove you’re a dope, that I’ll give you.’
Another pause and Cony was called forward. Moments later Terry followed into the next booth. ‘Oh for pity’s sake…’ Terry sounded ready to explode. ‘They’ll get no sample from me.’
Cony hopped back, a grin, punctuated by two huge incisors splitting his face. ‘Ha! So you’re scared of what they’ll find eh?’ He hefted up his shorts, wiggling them over his especially fluffed tail and stepped around the partition, preparing to Lord it over the shellacked cheat. Instead his jaw dropped as he saw his adversary looking up at the stand.
Terry shrugged. ‘They’re not set up for amphibians. You couldn’t…?’ He nodded up at the stand.
Cony stepped back. ‘You are kidding me.’
Terry shrugged. ‘If I can’t give a sample for a legitimate reason, I win. Up to you, fluffins.’
Cony ground his teeth, before reaching down. While he dangled Terry over the jar, a white coated official rushed over. ‘What are you doing?’
‘What’s it look like,’ growled Cony. ‘Helping this walking rock give a sample.’
The official blanched and hurried away. Terry and Cony watched as he joined a group of other officials who began a heated conversation.
‘Not sure that helped,’ said Terry.
‘I was only telling the truth,’ replied Cony. But he too could see the way the wind was blowing.
An hour later, as Terry and Cony changed they heard the official announcement of the winner – a Toad – which was followed by, ‘and the judges have agreed that, due to doping irregularities, both the hare and the tortoise have been disqualified.’
‘Drink?’ Offered Terry.
‘Don’t mind if I do,’ replied Cony.
The two runners made for the athletes’ bar. ‘You think there’s a moral to this story?’ Asked Cony.
‘Nah, mate,’ replied Terry, ‘unless it’s you should never take part in a fable where you’re caught out by having too much speed.’
‘I thought you said you’d not taken any drugs.’
‘You’ll never know now, will you? Oh cripes, here comes the press. Shall we go and hide in that bush? Though you’ll have to pretend to be a rabbit.’
‘I told you, I am not a bloody bunny.’
‘Whatever. Put on these shades and we’ll be fine.’