Episode 3: The Race That No One Ever Wins
The morning of the Great Quirx City Race dawned bright and pastel, the sky swirling with sleepy pinks and golds. Emil and Tom had spent the night cozy and snug in their little tomato-ship, and they woke up tingling with excitement.
Knock, knock, knock!
"Rise and shine, racers!" came a cheerful voice from outside. It was Yunnf, painted in his bright stripes, bouncing on the bouncy grass with the energy of someone who had drunk far too much fizzy lemonade. "Up, up, up! It's race day! The biggest day of the year! Unless it's tomorrow. Or yesterday. I can never tell."
Emil and Tom hurried out, rubbing the sleep from their eyes and grinning. "We're ready!" said Emil. "All three of us are racing, right?"
"All three!" Yunnf confirmed. "You, me, and the wiggly one. Come along — to the starting field!"
Together they set off through the colorful brick streets toward the edge of the city. And what a sight awaited them! The starting field was packed with Quirxians — hundreds of them, in every color imaginable, all gathered together in a great cheerful, chattering, joking crowd. They jostled and giggled and told one another riddles while they waited for the race to begin.
Emil and Tom found a spot near the front and crouched down low, ready to run as fast as their feet (and tail) could carry them. Emil's heart pounded. Tom wiggled with anticipation. They peered ahead, looking for the route through the city to the finish line far away on the other side.
At the front of the field stood the starter — a tall purple Quirxian holding a flag. But it was not a starting flag at all. It was a black-and-white checkered flag — the very kind that, on most planets, is waved at the end of a race, not the beginning.
Emil frowned. "That's odd. Isn't that the finish flag?"
But before he could think about it any further, the purple starter lifted the checkered flag high, waved it grandly, and bellowed: "RACERS... GO!!!"
Emil shot forward like an arrow. Tom zipped off beside him, wiggling at top speed.
And then they both skidded to a stop.
Because no one else was running.
Not a single Quirxian had broken into a run. Not one. Instead, the entire crowd had begun to walk — very, very slowly. And not even toward the finish line! The Quirxians ambled off in every direction at once: some wandered left, some shuffled right, some turned around entirely and strolled back the way they'd come. One fellow lay down for a nap. Another stopped to admire a brick. They dawdled, they meandered, they pottered about — going absolutely everywhere except toward the finish.
Emil and Tom stood frozen in the middle of it all, utterly baffled.
"Yunnf!" Emil called, hurrying over to their friend, who was strolling along backward while whistling a tune. "Yunnf, what's going on? Why isn't anyone running? Why is everyone walking the wrong way?"
Yunnf looked at him as if the answer were the most obvious thing in the universe. "What do you mean, what's going on?" he beamed. "We're racing!"
Emil stared. Tom stared. And then, slowly, Tom's eyes went wide as saucers as understanding dawned on him.
"Emil," he gasped. "I think I've worked it out. On Quirx... the race isn't won by the one who arrives first." He started to giggle. "It's won by the one who arrives... LAST!"
Yunnf clapped his wooden hands with glee. "Now you've got it! Of course it's the last one! Anyone can run fast — that's boring. But to take your time, to wander, to get gloriously, marvelously lost? That takes real talent!"
It was completely, utterly, wonderfully insane. The whole point of the race was to not reach the finish line. The Quirxians strolled and dawdled and napped and admired bricks, each one trying to be slower and more sidetracked than the next. The "race" was less of a race and more of the world's most leisurely, aimless wander.
"But Yunnf," Emil managed, half-laughing already, "if everyone's trying to come in last, and nobody's heading for the finish line... then how does anyone ever win?"
Yunnf puffed up his chest proudly. "Ah! Now there's the genius of it. Do you know — last year's champions took more than a whole year to finish the race!"
"More than a year?!" Emil spluttered.
"More than a year!" Yunnf confirmed happily. "Took the scenic route, you see. Stopped for snacks. Built a house halfway. Had a holiday. Magnificent racing."
And that was when it truly hit Emil and Tom — the gloriously silly truth of it all. If everyone was trying to come in last, and no one ever headed for the finish line, and the winners took more than a year... then the truth was that nobody ever actually finished the race at all. It just went on and on forever, a whole planet full of puppets wandering happily in every direction but the right one, year after year after year, and never, ever reaching the end.
It was the funniest thing Emil and Tom had ever heard in their entire lives.
They couldn't help it. They began to laugh. And once they started, they simply could not stop. They laughed and laughed until their sides ached. They laughed so hard that Emil's knees gave out and he flopped onto the bouncy grass. Tom laughed so hard he curled up into a wiggly ball and rolled right over. The two of them lay there in the soft grass, rolling about, tears of pure joy streaming down their faces, howling with helpless, unstoppable, belly-shaking laughter.
"A race — hee hee — that nobody — ha ha ha — that nobody ever finishes!" Tom wheezed, gasping for breath. "It's — it's — the silliest thing in the whole galaxy!"
When Yunnf saw the two of them rolling around on the ground, helpless with laughter, he did not look puzzled or offended. Quite the opposite. He threw both his wooden arms up in the air and shouted with the greatest delight: "YES! That's the spirit! That's the spirit, my friends!"
He turned to the crowd and announced grandly, "Look at them! Look how they laugh! Do you know, on Quirx, laughing like that — rolling-on-the-floor, can't-breathe, tummy-aching laughter — why, that's the greatest superpower there is! Not everyone can do it! You two are naturals!"
The watching Quirxians clattered their wooden hands together in warm approval, beaming their painted smiles.
It took a good few minutes before Emil and Tom could finally catch their breath and stagger back to their feet, still hiccuping with the occasional giggle.
"Oh, Yunnf," Emil sighed happily, wiping his eyes. "This is the funniest place in the entire galaxy. I don't think I've ever laughed so much in all my life."
"It really is wonderful here," Tom agreed, giving one last little giggle.
But then Emil rubbed his aching sides and looked at Tom with a rueful grin. "You know... I think it might be a bit too funny for us. If we stay here much longer, we're going to laugh so hard we'll hurt our tummies for a week! I'm not sure we're built for this much fun."
Tom nodded, holding his own sore little belly. "I think you might be right. As lovely as it is... I think it's time we went home to the ship."
So they told Yunnf they would be leaving. And here was the strangest thing of all: when Yunnf heard they were going, he smiled — a great big happy smile. Of course, on a planet where everything is topsy-turvy and back-to-front, a happy smile probably meant he was sad to see them go. But that was Quirx for you.
"Ah, you're leaving! Splendid! Terrible! Wonderful!" Yunnf said, all at once. "It happens all the time, you know. Visitors come, visitors laugh, visitors leave with sore tummies. Our planet is simply too funny for most folk." He gave a knowing little nod. "The truth is, you can really only live here if you're made of wood, like us. Nothing hurts us, you see — we can laugh and laugh and laugh forever and never get a tummy ache. It's the only way to survive a place this silly!"
Emil and Tom laughed (gently this time, to spare their poor ribs) and walked with Yunnf back to the cozy red tomato-ship. But as they reached the door and Yunnf peeked inside to say his farewells, his painted eyes suddenly landed on the great ancient book lying open on the table — and he gave a shout of surprise.
"That book!" he cried, pointing. "I know that book! Well — not that one exactly, but one just like it!" He leaned in, studying it. "Years ago — years and years ago — a stranger came to Quirx. A traveler, all alone. And he had a book just like this one! The very same kind!" He tilted his head. "Though his looked newer than yours. Fewer pages filled in. Not nearly so many stories written in it yet."
Emil and Tom went very still. The nameless traveler! The one who had written the book in the first place!
"Yunnf," Emil said quickly, "the stranger — do you know who he was? His name? Where he came from? Anything?"
Yunnf scratched his wooden chin and thought very hard. Then he beamed. "Fortunately... no!" he declared cheerfully. "Haven't the foggiest! Couldn't tell you if my hat depended on it! It was far too long ago — and besides, I have a memory like a... like a... oh, I've forgotten the word!" And he cackled with delight at his own joke.
Emil sighed, but he was smiling. Another clue about the mysterious traveler — and, in true Quirx fashion, a clue that told them almost nothing at all. But it was something. The traveler had been here, once, long ago. The trail was real.
"Thank you, Yunnf," Emil said warmly. "For everything. The race, the laughs, all of it. We'll never forget Quirx."
"We promise we'll come back and visit again," Tom added. "Sore tummies and all!"
"You'd better!" Yunnf said, waving both arms. "Good night! Good morning! Safe travels! Mind the puddles!"
And so Emil and Tom climbed aboard their cozy red tomato-ship, waving goodbye to Yunnf and all the cheerful wooden puppets of Quirx. The engines hummed, then glowed, then roared to life. With a gentle boing off the bouncy grass, the little ship lifted up, up, up — past the upside-down trees, past the floating islands, up through the swirling pastel sky and out into the glittering stars.
Below them, the silly, glowing, joke-filled planet of Quirx grew smaller and smaller, until it was just one more bright dot among the stars. And somewhere down there, a whole planet of wooden puppets was still wandering happily through their endless, unwinnable, gloriously silly race.
Inside the ship, Emil set the great ancient book back in its place of honor and smiled at Tom.
"Well, my friend," he said. "One more world explored. One more clue about our mysterious traveler. And a whole book full of adventures still waiting." He looked out at the endless, sparkling galaxy ahead. "Where shall we go next?"
Tom grinned and wiggled with joy. "Anywhere," he said. "As long as we go together."
And on flew the cozy little red tomato-ship, two best friends aboard, into the wide and wonderful and waiting stars.
The End.
...for now. 🍅✨