Fortunately the Spitfire has a more roomy cockpit, it therefore required a slightly larger 'trolley' the little extra weight gave gravity a hand and I began to pass Tailspin.As the crowed passed in a blur we had to be doing 50mph, and we'd only covered 100yds, still half a mile to go.As I edged into the lead Tailspins lips went to combat boost, but to no avail, I noticed I was drifting towards him. I kicked in a little left rudder and eased over on the stick.....'nothing'.....the sudden realisation that nothing in our 'aircraft' was actually connected to anything was not comforting. I was strapped to a quarter ton of Reginald Mitchells finest, being carried on castor wheels nicked from Asda trolleys, I could only hope I didn't have the one with the wonky wheel. I had now passed Tailspin, the mad bugger was now 'slipstreaming' and yelling "Faster, Faster, or get out of my vay Britisher svine hunt". Trying to ignore him I conscentrated on the road ahead, I wished I hadn't. It is true, traumatic events happen in slow motion, so slow I had time to reflect on a little history.Prior to WWII soapbox derbys were virtually unknown in Britain, then the 'Yanks' arrived. I must assume they taught English youngsters this new sport because they figured if they could risk death in the skies over Germany, the English brats should lay it on the line too.After the war the Americans left and a soapbox derby epidemic ensued.Hospitals reported casualty and fatality figures not seen since the dark days of the Blitz.Councils had to take action, anywhere a child had perished they built a round-a-bout and transplanted into it's centre the biggest f&^%ing oak tree they could find.Our tree is known locally as 'The Lovers Shade', "it will probably be renamed ' The Tree That Killed Those Two Bloody Idiots' " I thought. It was about this time I joined Tailspin in making ridiculous engine sounds.....but mine were not coming from my lips.... The tree loomed large, the end was near....Tailspin had pulled out of my slipstream and was passing me. As he drew level he raised his left hand in a Winston Churchill salute...he ALWAYS gets that one wrong.We would soon enter the shadow of the tree, I felt in some way guilty for bringing Tailspin to such an end. I resolved to at least try and save him, I leaned all my weight towards him and my racer drifted likewise.Now I must point out I honestly only wanted to nudge him sufficient to clear the tree, thinking he would run onto the grass and stop.My front castor wheel clipped his front castor wheel, unfortunately his was the one with the little wheel lock 'thingy' on it. His wheel locked, his racer flipped and he was airborne...my last intact memory was of him flapping his arms and yelling "WEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeee"! Did you know, it is impossible to tell the difference between a brick wall and an oak tree at the moment of impact ? well it is. I lay crumpled against the tree, I knew I was alive, death couldn't hurt this much and evidently I no longer needed a pee.Fat Frank from accounts patted my shoulder and assured me Dr Von Krupp was on her way, I was reassured by this, remembering from her CV that she had undergone 'specialist' nurse training. I was just on the verge of losing consciousness when she arrived, through lidded eyes I saw her standing over me "what the hell was she wearing"? I passed out.I awoke in hospital 3hrs later, visions of 'nurse' Von Krupp filling my mind.It turns out her 'specialist' training was with a Strip-o-gramme company, as the ambulance would take 40 mins to get to me she entertained the crowd with a 'show'...and I missed it.Tailspins flight lasted 375yds and ended in St Barnabus's cesspool.He smashed his face on the gunsight but was otherwise unharmed...and he got to watch the 'show'....BUGGER!!!!!!! Hot Uniform by Pretty3D Zippys Oak Tree