Shelter Animals Race For A Home [Livestream]

DAMIAN: Welcome to the championship finals of the first ever Furry Friends Olympics! Streaming live from our backyard, our lineup has arrived at the starting line for the event that will decide the match once and for all: a race! The rules are simple: run a lap around our backyard. The first to do so wins the grand prize!

TAYLOR: Seems simple enough, but I know for sure it’s gonna be super intense! Would you mind reminding our dear viewers what the grand prize is, Leah?

LEAH: Not at all, Taylor. So, the whole reason for the Furry Friends Olympics is because we begged for years to let us have a pet, and they finally agreed! Unfortunately, we’ve had some “disagreements” about exactly counts as a pet.

TAYLOR: Little brothers, am I right?

LEAH: Yeah! Ducks are the best, cutest, cuddliest pet in the world. But NO, my onion-head brother wanted a scorpion. I mean, are you kidding? A scorpion? Even if you paid me a million dollars, I would not even let that thing on the same planet as me!

DAMIAN: Hey! I heard that!

LEAH: I meant the scorpion, dummy.

DAMIAN: Okay, look here, you f—

TAYLOR: Anyway, I think there’s a lot more scarier things on the planet, Leah.

LEAH: I know that! Get them all off! Cats, dogs and goldfish only; things with scales, stingers, and onion heads—gone! Bye-bye, see you never!

TAYLOR: What about fish?

LEAH: Fish are fine. Koi fish are my favourite. No piranhas, though—I mean, look at their teeth!

DAMIAN: Hey, Leah; Taylor! I’d like Charley to win sometime this year!

LEAH: Okay okay, but it’s obvious Lilac’ll win!

TAYLOR: How about we first introduce the lineup to our dear viewers on the other side of the screen?

LEAH: Of course! In this year’s Furry Friends Olympics, we got Ricky the fluffy cat, Charley the icky scorpion, and Lilac II, Duchess of Quackow, the cutest duckling I’ve ever seen—we got her from our school hatchery.

TAYLOR: Aren’t you missing someone, Leah?

LEAH: Okay, so my dad is a scientist with his own private lab, right? He works for a company that sells genetically bona-fide food. He worked long and hard to create the perfect pet for us by combining the best parts of our favourite animals into one. The result: Harry, the purple fluttersprout. Since you’re better at all that sciency stuff, how about you tell our audience how it was made?

TAYLOR: Gladly, Leah. By the way, I think you mean “genetically modified.”

LEAH: Whatever.

TAYLOR: Anyway, Harry may seem bizarre, but what you are seeing is the amalgamation of everything Damian loves about scorpions and Leah loves about ducks—and more. You can see its stinger, its fur, its butterfly wings it uses to fly, not to mention that the fact that it is a genetically modified pine seed means you can make more Harries by sticking him into the ground and giving him plenty of water and sunlight! That’s why Leah and Damian’s dad named it a “fluttersprout.” Because Harry’s stinger is retractable, Leah can cuddle it to her heart’s content, while it can still give Damian the cool factor he could leverage against buddies and bullies alike. What I still don’t understand is why it’s purple.

LEAH: Dad said it’s a prototype. If this one has no problems, he would make more in six different colours. Ooh, I can’t wait! I hope he makes a blue one!

TAYLOR: I wouldn’t mind an orange one myself.

DAMIAN: Okay, that’s great and all, but let’s begin the race already! Everyone, to your starting positions!

Animals congregate on the deck.

DAMIAN: The rules are simple: the first animal to complete a lap around the backyard wins the awesome privilege of being our pet. I have marked the track out in advance in case you feel like “interpreting” my rules. If you step over that line, guess what? You’re disqualified—simple as that. Now, are you ready?

Animals stare at him.

DAMIAN: I said, “are you ready?”

Ricky meows and Lilac quacks; Harry nods by bobbing up and down.

DAMIAN: On your mark!

TAYLOR: It’s starting, everyone!

DAMIAN: Get set!

LEAH: Ooh, I’m so nervous already!

Damian pauses for dramatic effect.

DAMIAN: Go!

TAYLOR: And they’re off! Charley quickly takes the lead as Lilac II and Ricky take their sweet time to hop down from the deck! Hey, did you know the fastest recorded speed for a scorpion is twelve miles an hour? That’s four miles an hour faster than us! Coupled with their night vision and lethal arsenal of venom, you won’t win a single game of tag or hide and seek against them!

LEAH: That’s great and all, but look at Lilac’s adorable waddle!

TAYLOR: Adorable indeed, but those flippers are designed for swimming, not track and field. Also, you’re pitting a duckling who was born just two weeks ago against an adult scorpion. I don’t think Damian thought through how fair this race would be.

LEAH: He did that on purpose! He wants Charley to win, so he’s stacked the race for him! That’s not fair, Damian!

DAMIAN: I’m the host, so I make the rules! Last I checked, you don’t have to do any of the picking-up-after, so why are you complaining?

TAYLOR: Hey, guys, can y’all quit your squabbling and focus on the race? Lilac is almost halfway around the track, with Harry following close behind, and your cat is still licking himself on the d—wait a second, where is Charley?

Damian points.

DAMIAN: There! He’s almost at the finish line!

LEAH: What? Already?

TAYLOR: But wait, he isn’t moving. What’s going on?

DAMIAN: Oh no! Dad set out a rat trap the other day and I totally forgot about it!

TAYLOR: What a sticky situation!

DAMIAN: Ha ha, very funny.

TAYLOR: And Lilac II is slowly but surely catching up! She could win the race!

DAMIAN: No! Come on, Charley! You can do it! Only a little bit further and you’re home free!

TAYLOR: Hang on, what is Harry doing?

DAMIAN: He left the track! Yes! That means he’s disqualified!

TAYLOR: And he’s flying toward Charley?

DAMIAN: He’s…

TAYLOR: …using his ant-like super strength to lift Charley up from the ground—trap and all!

LEAH: No!

DAMIAN: Yes! Go Harry!

TAYLOR: They’re heading toward the finish line. Three yards… two yards… one yard… They’ve done it—Harry and Charley tie for first place!

Leah points.

LEAH: Check again.

TAYLOR: Um, it seems I misspoke, everyone—Harry and Charley are tied for second place. Lilac II, Duchess of Quackow, had stolen the gold medal right under our noses!

DAMIAN: Hey! Give it back, you dumb duck!

TAYLOR: Leave her alone, Damian. She won fair and square.

Damian sighs.

DAMIAN: Fine.

LEAH: So, who do we keep as a pet now?

DAMIAN: I mean, Lilac technically won the race. I guess we have to keep her and return the others to the shelter.

LEAH: Yeah, I guess so too.

DAMIAN: Why are you sad? I thought Lilac was “adorable.” You were rooting for her the whole race!

LEAH: Yeah, but they all tried so hard to win “the awesome privilege of being our pet.” It just doesn’t feel right to abandon them now.

Taylor sees the cat lying down on the deck, not having moved an inch from the starting line.

TAYLOR: I don’t think Ricky tried that hard, if you ask me.

The siblings’ father comes out through the deck door.

FATHER: Hey, kids. Why the long faces? How’s the race?

DAMIAN: Lilac won.

LEAH: But we don’t wanna take the others back! It doesn’t feel right!

TAYLOR: Plus, Harry helped Charley finish the race!

FATHER: Oh? He did?

TAYLOR: Yeah! Charley got stuck in a rat trap, and Harry broke the rules and carried him all the way to the finish line!

Father ponders for a moment.

FATHER: I see. Let’s ask what Harry’s opinion is.

DAMIAN: Huh? Harry can talk?

FATHER: Not exactly like us; I taught him morse code, so he can communicate with us by flicking his firefly abdomen on and off.

He takes out his smartphone and transmits a message using the flashlight app. Harry responds with his own flickers of light.

DAMIAN: What is he saying?

FATHER: He’s asking you to consider keeping Charley, Lilac, and Ricky. He’s fine with being given away or sold since that’s the reason I created him in the first place.

DAMIAN: What? No way! You made him, so if anyone should be a part of the family, it’d be him!

TAYLOR: Hey, uh, just an idea: why not keep all of them?

Leah gasps.

LEAH: Great idea!

DAMIAN: There’s no way dad’ll agree to that!

FATHER: Sure.

DAMIAN: Do you know how expensive—wait, what?

FATHER: You can keep all four pets, but on one condition: you start earning your own money to help pay for the food, vet costs, toys, and everything else. I just so happened to have received a flyer in the mail about a paper delivery route you two can take. Twenty dollars a week for each of you, so that makes sixty dollars. But I must warn you: keeping four pets is a lot of responsibility.

The three children look at one another.

FATHER: How about it?

TAYLOR: Well, I’m gonna have to ask my mom if it’s okay.

FATHER: Leah?

LEAH: You bet! How hard could tossing things onto people’s driveways be?

Taylor giggles.

TAYLOR: Yeah, you do it to Damian’s soccer balls all the time.

LEAH: That was one time!

FATHER: Damian?

Damian debates for a long time. Harry flies to him and lands on his head, which helps him arrive at an answer.

DAMIAN: Okay, but Charley has to live in my room.

Leah and Damian cheer. Taylor turns to the father.

TAYLOR: Hey, uh, can Harry live with me? He can help my mom around the house, like setting the table or something.

Leah chuckles.

LEAH: You just want to get out of doing your chores, don’t you, Taylor?

DAMIAN: No way! He should do my chores! Do you know how gross cleaning a litter box is?

TAYLOR: Not as gross as changing diapers!

DAMIAN: Wanna race for it? Meet me outside my house tomorrow—unless you’re too chicken.

TAYLOR: You’re on! You’re gonna get creamed tomorrow!

DAMIAN: If I’m creamed, you’re gonna be whipped cream! I’m the fastest in my class!

TAYLOR: Only ‘cause I skipped a grade!

The father watches Damian and Taylor’s friendly banter for a bit, then goes back to his lab, wondering what to name his next creation. Leah picks up the video camera, apologizes on her brother and friend’s behalf, says goodbye, and signs off.