The tale of a slug and a snail

“Oh sublime, my dear!” praised Cynthia Snail. “You do it every year!”

“Yes, I’m truly the best,” bragged Slimy Slug. “There is simply no contest.”

“Don’t look so smug, Slug!” cried Cedric Snail. “You wouldn’t do so well if you had a shell.”

“Oh Cedric, you’re just jealous because you lost the race,” said Cynthia. “You were utterly outclassed and beaten for pace.”

“Jealousy indeed,” mocked Slimy. “Because I have the stamina and I have the speed.”

“One of these years you will fail,” Cedric retorted. “And the annual race will be won by a snail.”

“Not even when I’m old and grey,” Slimy scoffed. “It will never happen, there’s just no way.”

“One day I’ll be the winner, I’ll be the one,” said Cedric. “You’ll get sluggish, if you’ll excuse the pun.”

“Only then will you deserve praise,” said Slimy. “But you’ll never make it around the garden in ninety six days.”