15 for 15 Contest --- Closed

I know I'm going to regret this later. The gas will probably kick in during my last interviews, and I'll be spending the evening perched on the porcelain throne. It will be like that one episode of the Ambiguously Gay Duo last year. Maybe I'll just bring a book to read. Enough of that. I ought to enjoy this win and all its traditional trappings. Maybe I should have requested OJ like Al Unser, Jr. did back in the 90s. Then again, I didn't expect to win this race, the IRL's Super Bowl, if you will. I got a hard push from everyone, and the lead didn't always stay in my grasp.

I suppose the person I need to thank for this is Danica. Had she not gotten in that wreck, I'd be in the garage right now, milling over a finish outside the top five. Even a top ten finish might have been out of the question. Instead, that wreck allowed me to gain track position in the last twenty laps, and I somehow managed to hold on. The outrageous double flip crash also cleared up some of the traffic toward the front of the line. Without that traffic, my teammate Bobby gave me an extra boost once he got to the very front. He had been trying to push through the traffic much of the race, but he just couldn't catch a break.

Once my Victory Lane photo shoot ends, I set down the quart and notice half of the creamy white stuff is covering my suit. Hope it doesn't make it less flame retardant. The reporters swarm me, thrusting their microphones and tape recorders into my chin. Part of me wants to push them back in case I need to dash to the nearest john. I take some time out to answer the reporters' questions. As I tell a correspondent from ESPN how I got by with a little help from my friend, I felt the gas bubble up deep in my belly. I'm surprised the noise didn't catch the attention of those in front of me. Just as I prepare to head to the garage to celebrate with my crew, a burst of gas cuts through my farewells to the reporters. Aghast, I stop walking and feel a vaguely warm sensation on my bottom. A little scared to find out for sure, I run to the nearest toilet, breaking Indy records in the process.