The hedgehog had just made a sharp turn and nearly went barreling off of his board. He tried to make a swift recovery but soon saw the hawk catching up to him fast. He didn't know what to do so he kicked up a booster, that sent him flying off of his board, which promptly smashed into the wall. He quickly stood up, wiping blood from his nose and lip and grabbed the board. The impact had emptied the air fuel tank, and he saw the hawk swiftly getting closer. This was the final lap and he had lost the race, and had injuries to add to the humiliation of his defeat. There was only one race left and if he didn't place third or higher, he wouldn't be in it.
The hedgehog fought at the tears linking to his injuries as the board fueled up, closer the hawk grew with each passing second. Any moment now he'd pass Manic and throw him into second place, and next thing you'd know he'd be dead last. he coughed into his hand, a small amount of blood speckling his glove and wiped the crimson liquid off of a few spots on his face. He had known the other saw him fall, and he was almost certain the hawk was laughing at him. Laughing at his winning streak being over, laughing at his klutziness, and it burned Manic up inside.
What else could he do though? The board was nearly fueled up but what would he do then? The impact had made him dizzy and he felt on the verge of collapsing. He couldn't get back up to speed before the hawk caught up and passed him and the third placing racer was only moments behind him. He tried to shake it off, stepping onto his board in a different position and taking off a bit slower. He could hear the hawk approaching him so he powered on the boosters in a desperate attempt to keep first place. The finish line was in sight, just seconds away. If he could keep this pace, he might still make it.
The board sputtered out, the frontal jet giving out due to excessive damage and causing air to leak out of it, "Fuckin' hell! Are you shittin' me!?" he screeched out, powering on a final boost and hoping it would take him over the finish line. His eyes closed and hoped he could make it, and gave a dissatisfied grunt when his board hit a part of the track and he went barreling down the starting hill to the bottom. Weakly he got up onto his knees, glancing over at the damaged board only a few metres away from him. The moment he saw the hawk he sighed, "Congrats Jet, knowin' my luck y'got first place, right?"
