I am an exceptionally fast runner.

How fast can you run? I will bet that you cannot run as fast as I. At my best, I would fathom that I top out at 50 miles per hour.

What’s that, you say? No human can run faster than 18 miles per hour? Well, all I know is that I haven’t been timed, and I’m certain that I’m a hell of a lot faster than that. I once outran a cheetah. Now, I grant you that it was an elderly cheetah with a full stomach, but I think you’ll agree that my point has been sufficiently proven.

Still not convinced, eh? Very well. What if I were to tell you that I could outrun a steam-powered locomotive? Impossible? Hardly. Why, I trotted past just such a vehicle on my way to work this morning! What? No, don’t bother trying to figure out where one would find a functioning steam train in the 21st century! That simply isn’t the point. The point is, I made that thing look like it was operating with soiled underwear around its ankles. I was like the Flash on meth.

Well sir, if you insist on questioning me, perhaps you’d be interested in a gentlemanly duel? We could race one another, perhaps a distance of 100 yards? No? Well then I would advise you to shut your word-hole before I thrash you with my substantial cane. If you do not desist, I will rain blows upon your left temple, in the interests of untamed vigilante justice.

What’s that? You are retracting your quarrelous phrases? Good. You have indeed come to your senses. But be forewarned, rogue, next time I may not be of such a forgiving temperment.

Very well. You may now return to your kindergarten class.