>You rush down to the speedway to talk with the manager. With the party just two days away, you've got to find a place to hold it fast! >The stock car races are in progress, a dozen cars roaring around the track. You find the manager in the pit. He's a short, stocky guy with a stubby black mustache that looks as if it was glued under his nose. >"I need to talk to you about renting the speedway," you tell him. >"What?" he cries, trying to hear you over the roar of the racing cars. >"I'm giving a party for the whole town. want to rent the speedway." >"What?" >"Is the speedway for rent?" >"You what? You want to place a bet?" he asks. "There's no betting here. Scram!" >"Not bet. Rent. RENT!" you scream. >"Listen, I can't hear you. I got earplugs my ears because of the noise!" he screams. >"Why don't you write me a letter?" He turns back to watch the cars. >It looks as if you'll just have to hold your the free park. Maybe party in the park
09/16/2026 (Wed) 10:39
No.1031219
del
