I’ll never forget the look in his eyes. I was chasing Road Runner across the desert and craggy plains of the American West, traveling on my ACME rocket booster roller skates to keep up with his NASCAR-like swiftness.

Through the rain and the darkness, at my incredible rate of speed, I failed to realize the rugged road had disappeared from underneath my very roller-skate-clad paws. I was suspended in mid-air as if time had stopped, but the reality of my inevitable fall was on my mind as I whipped out a sign from an alternate universe which read “Oops!”

Road Runner, standing on the edge of the cliff I had just blown past, mocked me for having studied the Law of Gravity. Education and intellect apparently were my undoing.

The next thing I know, I’m rising up from a crater in the ground amidst the smoke and dust of my apparent 900-foot descent into the earth. Somehow, I had managed to survive! I was alive! Alive!! Suddenly, life had a new and precious value, and my hatred of Road Runner seemed so pathetic and superficial (so what if he used to call me a bastard when we were in grade school? Sticks and stones, y’know?). I decided at that moment I would find Road Runner and bury the hatchet, put our past behind us, and run down the remainder of life’s road as friends.

Then the anvil hit me.

— HerbieTheElf, on Plastic