Tortoise comes in, orders a beer. Slow pan over bar counter to Hare, who's giving him the stink eye. Hare sulks over his beer. Finally ...
Hare: (indicating Tortoise) Why'd he do it?
Bartender: Excuse me?
Hare: Except out of sheer masochism, why would a tortoise challenge a hare to a race? What chance does he have? What was he @#$ing thinking?
Bartender: I don’t know.
Hare: He knew he was doing to lose. He knew he was going to lose! It’s ridiculous. But he challenged me anyway and he WON.
Bartender: You’re saying the race was fixed?
Hare: No. How … I took a @#$ing nap, OK? He couldn’t know that. Could he? It’s not like I’m that predictable. Unless it’s some tortoise @#$ing mind control. But he couldn’t. He’s just a dumbass tortoise.
Bartender: Maybe he slipped you something?
Hare: How? You think he snuck up on me? No. He didn’t win the race. I lost the race. Overconfident, see? I stopped running, put my ass on the ground and took a nap.
Bartender: And the tortoise won.
Hare: Yeah the tortoise won. Hip-hip-hooray, tortoise.
Bartender: I think you've had enough
Hare: I’ll tell you when I've had enough. I’m a @#$ing hare, OK? Metabolism like mine, I burn it off in ten minutes. I can’t get drunk. I can’t get beat!
Bartender: But the tortoise beat you.
Hare: I beat myself, jerk. The tortoise didn’t beat me. I did! How do you think that feels?
Bartender: Guess I never thought about it.
Hare: Guess not. Well think about it, schmuck. A racer like me, a speed demon hare such as you behold before you, what do you think happens to your life if you lose a race to a @#$ing tortoise?
Bartender: I don’t know. What happens to your life?
Hare: You have no @#$ing life! Your life is @#$ing over! That’s what happens! You think you get another race after that? You got another think coming. No nothing nada, kiss your life good bye. You’re a @#$ing joke from them on! A @#$ing lesson mommy hares tell their kids.
Bartender: What’s the lesson?
Hare: What’s the lesson?
Bartender: Yeah, what’s the lesson?
Hare: What do you think it is?
Bartender: Uh, I don’t know. “Slow but steady wins the race.”
Hare: "Slow but steady wins the race." That’s what you think?
Bartender: I guess so.
Hare: “You guess so?” Yeah, you would. “Slow but steady wins the race.” Let me tell you something. If I hadn’t taken that @#$ing nap, if I’d actually been running, no matter how slow and steady that mother!@#$er was, he would not have won the mother@#$ing race, OK?! No @#$ing way! The moral of the story is not, “Slow but steady wins the race.” The moral is, “No matter how @#$ing good you are, no matter how sure a thing it is, don’t take a mother@#$ing nap!
Bartender: I see your point.
Hare: It’s not my @#$ing point! It’s a fact. Slow and steady does not win the race! Slow … ah, forget it. Just …
Hare glares at the Tortoise again. He’s barely touched his beer.
Hare: You gonna @#$ing finish that thing or what?
UNCENSORED VERSION:
UNCENSORED VERSION
INT, BAR - NIGHT
Tortoise comes in, orders a beer. Slow pan over bar counter to Hare, who's giving him the stink eye. Hare sulks over his beer. Finally ...
Hare: (indicating Tortoise) Why'd he do it?
Bartender: Excuse me?
Hare: Except out of sheer masochism, why would a tortoise challenge a hare to a race? What chance does he have? What was he fucking thinking?
Bartender: I don’t know.
Hare: He knew he was doing to lose. He knew he was going to lose! It’s ridiculous. But he challenged me anyway and he WON.
Bartender: You’re saying the race was fixed?
Hare: No. How … I took a fucking nap, OK? He couldn’t know that. Could he? It’s not like I’m that predictable. Unless it’s some tortoise fucking mind control. But he couldn’t. He’s just a dumbass tortoise.
Bartender: Maybe he slipped you something?
Hare: How? You think he snuck up on me? No. He didn’t win the race. I lost the race. Over confident, see? I stopped running, put my ass on the ground and took a nap.
Bartender: And the tortoise won.
Hare: Yeah the tortoise won. Hip-hip-hooray, tortoise.
Bartender: I think you've had enough
Hare: I’ll tell you when I've had enough. I’m a fucking hare, OK? Metabolism like mine, I burn it off in ten minutes. I can’t get drunk. I can’t get beat!
Bartender: But the tortoise beat you.
Hare: I beat myself, jerk. The tortoise didn’t beat me. I did! How do you think that feels?
Bartender: Guess I never thought about it.
Hare: Guess not. Well think about it, schmuck. A racer like me, a speed demon hare such as you behold before you, what do you think happens to your life if you lose a race to a fucking tortoise?
Bartender: I don’t know. What happens to your life?
Hare: You have no fucking life! Your life is fucking over! That’s what happens! You think you get another race after that? You got another think coming. No nothing nada, kiss your life good bye. You’re a fucking joke from them on! A fucking lesson mommy hares tell their kids.
Bartender: What’s the lesson?
Hare: What’s the lesson?
Bartender: Yeah, what’s the lesson?
Hare: What do you think it is?
Bartender: Uh, I don’t know. “Slow but steady wins the race.”
Hare: "Slow but steady wins the race." That’s what you think?
Bartender: I guess so.
Hare: “You guess so?” Yeah, you would. “Slow but steady wins the race.” Let me tell you something. If I hadn’t taken that fucking nap, if I’d actually been running, no matter how slow and steady that motherfucker was, he would not have won the motherfucking race, OK?! No fucking way! The moral of the story is not, “Slow but steady wins the race.” The moral is, “No matter how fucking good you are, no matter how sure a thing it is, don’t take a motherfucking nap!
Bartender: I see your point.
Hare: It’s not my fucking point! It’s a fact. Slow and steady does not win the race! Slow … ah, forget it. Just …
Hare glares at the Tortoise again. He’s barely touched his beer.
Hare: You gonna fucking finish that thing or what?
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