Butler Road Race 5 Miler: A Horrendous Finish

RAJ: “Percival Manfred Rajah ‘Raj’ Mutthapphan reporting for the EBC, English Broadcasting Corporation. Today we are accompanying the famous American runner, Boten Daddy on his second Five Miler of the Year. He is one of the most utterly horrendous, yet del.ic.io.us runners we have ever seen. Since his disastrous performances in the early 90’s, to his near-death experiences a decade ago, we observe what the Americans call this ‘Train Wreck’ of a man in action. Back to you.”

BRAITHWAITE-CHOLMONDELEY-SMYTHE: “Yes, quite, undoubtedly (pronounced in-dew-bat-tab-lee). I understand that your crew will be mounted on a mobile so-called ‘Scooty Puff’ for a full-length coverage of this intrepid yet hideous runner.”

Ye Olde Courthouse

RAJ: “Precisely, my dear old fellow. This man, this runner, this Boten-daddy is a vestige of a bygone era. We shall be starting soon.”

BOTENDADDY: “I Hope I can break 8 minutes for my first mile today, but I feel like a dead goat.”

STALKER: “He’s a moron. He’s about as likely to run an eight minute mile as I am to float on gossamer wings.”

The throng

RAJ: “Right then. This ‘girl’ (icky) is accompanying said Botendaddy on this run.”

BCS: “Girl, ooh, how awful, he is not accompanied by a muscular piece of delectable man-flesh?”

RAJ: “No just some icky distaff in spandex.”

BCS: “Try to keep her out of the shot then, please.”

BOTENDADDY: “8:39 Mile? this blows goat anus! WTF?”


RAJ: ” We are heading steadily uphill, the Botendaddy is fading. It seems that his massive, pungent, sickly sweet, zesty, yeasty adult diaper is overheating him dramatically, as is that stinky, icky girl in her sweaty spandex.”

BCS: “Well, we are getting an excellent video feed here. The Botendaddy, while gorgeous, appears to be dying. Look at him for heaven’s sake, he is on death’s door.”

The race

The Marquis

RAJ: “It’s like watching the Hindenburg Disaster unfold before our very eyes.”

STALKER: “Two Miles, 19:24, this is just sad. WTF is wrong with you, anyway. As much as you run, you should be running faster.”

RAJ: “He is hitting every water station. The steady pace runners are all passing him, the 10 minute pacers, the 10:30’s all gaining. We are approaching the halfway point at the top of the ridge line.”

BOTENDADDY: “Must… try… for 30 minute 5k mark…”

STALKER: “That’s not gonna’ happen. Hey fatty, if you catch me, you can f&%k me? How’s that for a deal?”

RAJ: “Ooh, just over 30 minutes for the three mile mark, he will be lucky to be under 32:00 for the 5k mark. He is truly in the twilight of a mediocre career. Yet, I must admit my dear audience that I am fatally attracted to his beautiful man-flesh. I am madly, passionately in love with him in a 19th Century tragic Jane Austen sort of way.”

BCS: “Quite, he is definitely del.ic.io.us, but that icky girl is ruining the visual. Girls, yuck, I don’t know what men see in them. They are also quite stinky.”

RAJ: “Yes, Botendaddy’s friend the Stalker is reeking of woman-stink, from a terrifying wet spot in her leopard-skin-pattern, spandex, yeasty, crotch-rot, it is a hideous Catfish-thrown-on-ice-at-hockey-game sort of odor.”

STALKER: “Shut up you stupid English Man-C&%t or I’ll beat the living 5h!t out of you!”

BOTENDADDY: “42:40 Four miles? That’s terrible, I’m dying out here. I got nothing.”

RAJ: “Most of the runners are gone now, we have turned onto the Main Street. There is no-one behind and almost no runners in front. This is an horrific performance.”

BCS: “Our ratings are skyrocketing throughout this simulcast, Lloyd’s is betting on him dropping dead before the finish line at 22£ 3d to 1£ 4s 3d.”

RAJ: “Precisely. Here he comes towards the finish line. He is still alive. I repeat he is still alive. It’s a miracle. The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat all wrapped into one. Back to you in our studios at Bolton.”

STALKER: “F*&k me now, Yon’ Botendaddy, you rotting ancient beast. Let’s get one in before you die or something.”

“Vanilla Latte with Cinammon?”

Peace be the Botendaddy



About Botendaddy

Three times voted extreme sexiest man alive...by acclamation. I run because I must...I must!
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