Sir, are you saying that we were in the past......slow? Nonsense. THERE! East Hartford! The windy plains of the old aircraft test strip. Let me tell you about the day that I single handedly led a charge up the stairs to the Coors wagon. THere was a herd of large, sweaty, and angry beasts in the way in the concourse, as the home team was getting bady beaten that day. I kicked one of the larger beasts in the tail, and then used my shoelace as a lasso, and rode the beast like a steer through the crowd, singing the fight song at the top of my lungs....I'm an accomplished singer you know......a slight tug to the right at the stair, and stunning dismount....and there I was at the counter, ready to purchase my beer.....it was such a stunning display......the vendor simply handed it over. The crowd stood in awe. And since that day, whenever a beer is needed, they simply call my name.
Oh yes, we were small and slow. But that didn't matter.
