Squirrel v. Tortoise: The 1v1 of a Lifetime

BY: MALAIKA OLAOYE

There was something so majestic about watching fights on campus, like when Squirrel (they/ them) and Tortoise (they/ them) did that day out by the football field near Garretts. Fellow students that were walking by had to stop to watch what was going down. Up in this corner was Squirrel, the jock of all jocks. They were well known for their good looks, their jaw that could cut a cinder block, and their ability to charm the pants off of all guys, gals, and non-binary pals on campus. In the other corner was Tortoise. They, on the other hand, are equally well known among the visual arts students and the kinds of overachievers who still had an Honors minor past their first semester. Tortoise was also running for Class President. Squirrel was the one who started it as Squirrel often does, by roasting the shit out of Tortoise. "Do you ever get to class on time?" they asked with a twitch and mocking laughter. “You’re so slow, you make old people fucking look like they’re in the middle of a cheap porno.” “Okay, and?” said Tortoise as cool as a cucumber salad. “I’m as fast as I need to be. In fact, we can run a race to prove it.” Squirrel just smirked, very much amused at the idea of running a race with Tortoise. After all, they were fast as fuck boi. They agreed, but not without certain conditions: “If I win, you have to forfeit status as Class President and hand it over to me if you’re elected.” “Is that even allowed?” a student in the crowd wondered out loud, turning to President Crash Course (he/ him), who had already decided he was going to be referee and judge. He just shrugged and said, “Why not? This is too entertaining to pass up.” Tortoise was as cool as their drip, “Is that all?” Squirrel’s grin widened, “And you have to do my homework for the rest of the semester.” “And this is also allowed?” The same student spoke up again, getting groans from everyone in the crowd. Such a fucking wimp! It was Tortoise’s turn to list their demands. “If I win, get your most prized possession: Betty (she/ her).” The crowd oooohhhhed. Everyone on campus knew how much Squirrel loved Betty, their Switch; she was a limited edition Golden Walnut Nintendo Switch, a collector’s item that cost more than their college education. Squirrel beat someone up for looking at Betty funny. Squirrel didn’t let that phase them, only saying, “You’re on! So President Crash Course marked the distance from the football field to West Hall and started the runners off. Squirrel was soon far out of sight. They wanted to prove that Tortoise was very dumb and had a smooth brain. How could they compete with Squirrel? A little tired from straight up sprinting, Squirrel laid down against a bush next to Cunningham, the music building, to take a nap for a while. Tortoise meanwhile kept going slowly but steadily; and, after a time, they passed Cunningham and saw Squirrel was sleeping. “Not so fast as fuck now, are you Squirrel?” Tortoise muttered under their breath as they continued to West Hall. Squirrel slept on, very peacefully; and when they did wake up, Tortoise was already in West Village. Squirrel now ran their swiftest. Everything seemed to slow down as the pair approached the finishing line. Tortious was only a few feet from the finishing line, and Squirrel just past Elm Hall. It was close, too close for Squirrel’s comfort.

When they crossed the finishing line, no one could tell who made it first. It ended in a fucking tie! The crowd that had gathered left so disappointed, they tossed rotten tomatoes (that were for whoever lost) at President Crash Course. I went up to interview Squirrel and Tortoise afterwards, both of whom looked very disappointed. As they fucking should! A tie, my left ass cheek. My first question, though not relevant at all, was: “Why did your parents name you after animals?”