I knew I was in trouble when I tripped. As mud splashed around me, I could see my friends turning on me. They didn’t want clumsy; they had made that very clear to me at our last meeting.
     “Of all the shiny suitors in the business, we chose you.” A little spit across my face and the meeting was over.
     Still snickering, my co-workers stomped over to “reevaluate my level” just as the miracle I needed shot across the sky. A blow dart had penetrated the left hind leg of the club’s founder, Elmer. I was the only certified poison sucker of the town.
     As Elmer slumped to the ground, there were only seconds left till his legacy would be based off how much ivory his tusks could produce, not the tens of races he won or the horrid way he treated me…
     “Now, who will laugh at whose demise?”