---

Annie had been walking towards her horse while she was talking to this "Joseppi" person, conversing along the way. Neon Knight trailed slowly behind."Well, I suppose that makes sense. Having a fella in big ol' armor is bound to draw some attention in a crowded place. Ya hear that Neon?" Annie had kept her eyes on Slow Ride as she walked towards him, but looked back towards Neon as she said her last sentence. When she looked back forwards Joseppi had his fist stuck out, with what looked like another fist jutting out towards her.

"Woah, now!" Annie stopped dead in her tracks, and just as suddenly as the fist had appeared, it had vanished. "Well now, that's a neat trick." Neon Knight looked ready to strike at said hand, but relaxed when it dissapeared. After another moment of walking, they had arrived where Slow Ride was. Annie untied him from the post and hopped on.

"Well, if ya truly are headed back to New York, I'd be right happy to have ya come with. I'm going to stop by the beach first if ya don't mind. Want to get in one last good look before headin' off." It was about this time Neon Knight hopped on to Slow Ride as well, but the horse didn't seem to notice. Annie gave Slow Ride a pat on the head and he began to trot off. "Go ahead and get your horse and meet me there would ya?"

---

Simon's internal panicking was interrupted by that scary woman from earlier calling out to him. He barely registered the words 'good luck' before she had given him a rough pat on the back that caused him to yelp, and promptly rode off. He really hoped she hadn't heard the yelp...she definitely heard the yelp. Ugh. That was seriously embarrassing. First he chickens out of any type of conversation, then he yelps. She must've thought he was the biggest coward in the entire race. Not that she would be wrong for thinking that of Simon.

His downwards spiral of self-deprecation was broken when the Human Badger, whom he had heard earlier introduce himself as Donny, came trotting after her and- did he just scoop up horse crap? Simon's eyes widen, resembling saucers. Why in the world was he grabbing a fistful of crap!? Seconds after asking, Simon saw Donny approach the scary woman. Oh. Oh! Oh no.

"Watch out for-" His declaration was both too quiet, and too late, as the glob of horse dung was lobbed straight at the scary woman. Simon recoiled slightly as he was forced to watch the unfortunate collision. That was absolutely horrid, in both smell, and how cruel it was. Simon thinks back, recalling what she had said before patting him on the back. Was this Donny a competitor? Were all competitors eager to perform smear (poor word choice) tactics on each other!? This race was far too terrifying for Simon's tastes.

While he had a panic attack, the scary woman sped up. Eager to chase down the Shit Slinging Badger Boy. Her anger was palpable, was she about to do something she might regret? "Augh- I, Well- We probably ought to stop this from escalating.." With practiced speed, but the enthusiasm of a wet sock, Simon climbed atop Cecilia, and began to chase after the scary woman, who was chasing after Donny.

"Waaaait! Surely this doesn't need to escalate any further! You two might be at risk of being disqualified!" Simon called out desperately as the chase began in earnest, an unintentional prelude to the race itself.

---

The race had begun, and Donny was off. While he had originally been driven by just money, something different was flaring in him now: A competitive nature bubbling up due to that annoying woman, Jules. Sure, he had thrown horse shit at her; But that was just the beginning. Now he would leave her in the dust on the first stage, and beyond. There was plenty of competition, but that wasn't going to bother him: He'd push through, and stomp out who he had to. They had to be wary here, but once they were out in the dusts, away from public eye?

Anything could 'accidentally' happen to a few racers, right? And their supplies could mysteriously disappear afterwards. And Donny himself could oh-so conveniently end up with more supplies. It was a good deal all around, at least, he thought so.

As O'Riley raced forward, Donny took a moment to look back. Through the dozens of racers in his view, he saw all the prints from the horses along the ground. Though he had really checked back to make sure nobody was looming behind him; Not trusting that he wouldn't find a knife in his back sooner rather than later. Upon thinking now, maybe he should have thought more about a route to take. He hadn't really planned this much; He'd just keep racing until he reached his destination or found a reason to stop.

All he knew was he had to come in first. And first was what he'd do; Score the points, win the race, take the prize home.

Simple stuff.

---

The sun sat high in the sky as Annie looked onwards towards the horizon. It was fun traveling abroad, but it was time to go home.

This is also about the time Annie noticed the army of people on the beach. She looked back."Uhh... Neon, You seein' this? Is this some sort of big party?" she chuckled. "What, is the president coming to town?" "They're here for the Steel Ball Run. You need to get in position." "What's a Steel Ball Run? Some sorta race? It's what they look like they're about to do." "Yes. Look over there." Neon Knight's silvery metal finger pointed to the distance. A large platform with a flowing banner bearing the words "STEEL BALL RUN" could be seen. "Huh. Well I'll be. Hope they all have fun. Maybe I'll join in next time." "There is no 'next time'. This is a once in a lifetime event organized by the president himself. The winner is supposed to receive fifty million dollars. They're headed to New York, same as us. They're following a specific path though. We have a map in one of our satchels. You need to get into your spot. Hurry!"

Neon Knight grabbed hold of the reigns and directed Slow Ride to their position. Spot 0690."N-Now hold on there, Neon. This is all a lot to take in. And for that matter, how do you know all of this anyways?" "Have... have you not been paying attention to all of this? They've been talking about this for weeks." Annie blinked slowly, thinking. "Uhh..." "Oh my God." Neon Knight gripped the reigns in barely contained frustration. "Just... just pretend to hold the reigns.

The people around them started chanting. San Diego, New York. Over and over. The beginning and the end. Then, all at once, everyone took off. A cloud of dust enveloped them, and the horses ran as fast as they could. They rapidly passed several riders, likely those with slow reactions or horses who weren't up to snuff. Neon Knight had great confidence in Slow Ride, however, and Neon Knight let out a "HI-YAH!" as he whipped down the reigns.

---

Thankfully, Simon didn't need to interfere in what he had thought would be an incredibly violent horseback shootout. The moment he and Cecilia rounded the corner, they were met with a line-up of various other racers and their horses. He was able to note the victim of the Human Badger briefly, before she soon vanished into the crowd. Simon looked timidly at one of the organizers, who was currently giving him an intense glare for so noisily rounding the corner, and nearly disturbing the peace. Simon barely managed to choke out a timid response. "Ah, um, sorry. Very sorry." With that, he leads Cecilia to his place. 1313. How awful.

The person next to him seemed to agree, letting out a wince and briefly stating that he thought his number was unlucky, but that Simon's was far worse. Simon could barely hear him over the roaring in his ears. The race was about to begin, and he had wasted his time beforehand getting into fights, and trying to stop other fights. He didn't get to trade away his horribly unlucky number. Simon was practically doomed before the race even began..in his opinion, anyway. Anyone who wasn't a total defeatist wouldn't feel the same.

Regardless, the embarrassment and awkwardness of bailing out at the finish line was too much for Simon to handle. So he gripped Cecilia's reigns nervously, and began taking deep breaths to calm himself. The chanting of the crowd really didn't help much either. And as if sensing his distress, the voice of Perform This Way could be heard in his head, joining in the chant. Simon began to grit his teeth.

And before he knew it, the race was underway. The sound of fireworks bursting in the air signalling the start. Simon leaned forward in his saddle, which spurred Cecilia forwards. No lashing of the reigns was needed for his trusty police horse to get the message loud and clear. Somehow Simon managed to find himself at a cozy lead compared to most of the other racers, he was far from the front of the pack, but was at a pleasant middle ground. This was due to the simple fact that Cecilia wasn't phased by the explosions, and thus wasn't thrown off whatsoever. Simon found himself headed forward at a steady pace.

Granted, he wasn't gaining speed, but he wasn't losing it either. It was a reliable speed that promised safety above all else, which was what Simon prioritized right now. Cecilia was all about bursts of speed, so when the end of the first segment came around, that would be when he gave it his all. Until then, it was time to coast.

---

Perhaps 'win every stage' wasn't as simple as it sounded. While he tried to keep at the front of the pack, he noted that it simply painted a bigger target on his back. He allowed himself to fall back a small amount, though not to an extent that the leaders were leaving him in the dust: They must've been confident in their horses stamina to blast ahead this early, or maybe they were stupid? There was time to debate racer intelligence later; Donny was focusing on now, and scoping out his opposition to see who would look like the biggest threat.

His eyes landed on a woman; Kind of pudgy, but not in the places that made you ugly. Despite the race and the danger, she seemed surprisingly casual compared to most of the racers; Was she confident? He wasn't above assuming a woman could be dangerous; If anything, they'd probably beat him down more than most men have. Underestimating even the most innocent looking racer was bound to cause you trouble in the long run, so he simply considered everyone as a threat. It was too early to pick and choose targets; That was for later stages.

Then, it happened.

The plump roast woman had removed her hands from the reins of her horse, adjusting her shirt, or something? Though that was, surprisingly, not the interesting part: Rather, the interesting part was the fact the reins she released were floating in the air. The air. THE. AIR.

Donny's eyes practically shot out of his skull. _{"E h h h h h h ? !"} He let out a sound of pure confusion and shock: How was that possible? How could that woman levitate her reins like that? Wait: Levitate. Levitation was psychic. If Levitation = Psychic, then Tubba Blubba Butt over there was psychic. She wasn't just a racer; She wasn't just confident! She was controlling her horse with nothing but her mind!

Instinctively, he began to steer his horse farther away. But despite this, he kept staring with that same shocked, stupid expression. He could deal with swords, or guns. But psychic powers were beyond him; This was bullshit! Why'd he have to see her do that?! Now he'd be paranoid the entire race, and worse, terrified right now because she could be in his mind. She could've known all of these things he was thinking, right now, at this very moment.

_{'She can't read your mind. She can't read your mind. She can't read your mind...'} He thought to himself, though what if she could? What if she was, damn it? This was so distracting; He wasn't even paying attention to the race, this stupid shit was infecting his mind like an extreme paranoia. He wasn't usually the fearful type, but psychic powers were no joke! The larder-ass was a bigger threat to his well-being than he could have imagined.

He'd need to avoid conflict with that one.

---

Simon's strategy of not sweating it and keeping a steady pace was surprisingly effective. He wasn't entirely sure why almost every other racer was treating the race as if it were a short-distance sprinting contest, when it was in fact, an endurance run. Maybe they didn't really believe they could win and wanted to at least get a high ranking during the first portion of the first leg. Simon could understand that, better to be a winner briefly than a loser throughout the whole thing.

However, before Simon could continue down that downright depressing train of thought, he heard a voice. An unfortunately familiar, aggressive and metallic voice. "Psst! Earth to Dumb Mustache!" It was obvious who it belonged to no one else's voice sounded like a fork on a washboard. Oh no. Simon thought. "Oh no." Simon said. While he was distracted, his horrible evil ghost had manifested behind him. The scary specter called itself Perform This Way, Simon called it his awful ghost. "Oh no? Did you just lament my arrival? Yeah, okay, you're eating dirt next time you need me pal. But that ain't the point. Look over there!" Perform this way's stubby robotic hands grab onto Simon's head. It took all of Simon's willpower not to freak out and accidentally fall off Cecilia, who wouldn't have gotten even remotely spooked by Simon if he had freaked out.

His awful ghost forces him to look over at another rider. What made this one different, was the fact that she was riding double with what appeared to be an individual in a suit of armor. "Oh, wow. That's really amazing that those two trust each other enough to ride double like that. I think it's a bit cruel on the horse to wear such heavy armor, though." Simon noted, somehow missing the fact that the 'person' in the armor was phasing partially through the woman, and was obviously a ghost. His earnest statement was met with a long, irritated exhale by Perform This Way. "You know what? Never mind. Sure. They're riding double." The ghost proceeds to fade away in irritation, totally giving up on warning Simon about the potentially violent Stand that was riding somewhat nearby.

Simon frowned. That was strange. Usually his evil spirit only manifested to torment him or laugh when he stubbed his toe. Simon was fairly certain that it was just trying to get in his head and mess with him, so he promptly decides to forget about the whole affair, and continue focusing on the race. His current strategy was to ensure Cecilia didn't get too close to any of the aggressive looking riders. Simon suspected foul play was a given in this race. After all, having been a Policeman for years, Simon knew greed tended to lead to violence. This strategy was another safe bet, but it made Simon seem like a very bad jockey, as his horse was just sort of gradually zigzagging around while pressing forwards, instead of going straight forward.

---

Annie was not a racer. She much preferred the slow but steady pace she normally takes, hence the name Slow Ride. But Annie knew he enjoyed galloping at a full sprint every now and then. Annie did her best to look like she was holding the reigns, but letting Neon Knight do the actual riding. Suddenly, she felt part of her jacket loosen. Without hesitation, she let go of the reigns and re-buttoned up her jacket. Looking back she noticed a young man riding close by. He couldn't have been older than twenty. His blonde hair flew in the wind as he made eye contact with her. He seemed... very afraid. Annie gave him a short wave, but the young man seemed to be trying to get away from her more than anything. "Was it something I said?"

---

---

This isn't the first time Neon had ridden a horse. Annie had either been injured or fallen asleep on her horse numerous times before, and it was up to him to get her to safety. He'd gotten a good feel for Slow Ride over the years. He was built for stamina, and was used to traveling for a long time. He was pretty smart, too. He could usually avoid hazards on his own, but it was still a good idea to supervise.

Things seemed to be going smoothly for the most part, some riders were ahead of him, many behind. But just as things seemed to be going well, he noticed Annie take her hands off the reigns. "Aw goddammit Annie..." he hissed. Annie seemed more interested in fixing her jacket than listening to him, however. Letting go of the reigns at this point wouldn't be a good idea. Hopefully, nobody would make a big fuss about it. For now he just needed to keep a lookout for danger. Perhaps a change in equipment was in order? No, not yet. They weren't in any immediate danger. "Annie, keep a lookout for trouble. I'll concentrate on the riding. If you see anything out of the ordinary, let me know as soon as you see it." Annie looked back from the boy and grabbed the reigns once more. "Hmm? Sorry, you say something, Neon?" Annie was met with an exasperated and defeated sigh from Neon Knight. This was going to be a loooong trip.

---

Mother of god. She had taken notice of him.

It felt like time froze and the world stopped. He processed his situation quickly, unsure if she had really noticed he saw her reins floating in the air. She was acting so casual; Was she truly prepared for this race? How could one person seem so friendly yet so menacing at the same time? Was he just becoming unnerved over superstition? No, he had saw it; It was very real. Something was strange about her, and he couldn't trust what she said. The wave was probably a facade to get him to lower his guard, but he wasn't going to do so. He'd keep his distance; But keep an eye on her, as well. For his own sake.

These thoughts were interrupted by something slapping him in the face. He panicked; scrambling and clawing at whatever it was as he screeched out of surprise. Had people started playing dirty already by blinding his damn view?! He'd kill the bastard that thought they'd cheat him out of his position in the race just because they threw paper at him. But, upon observation, this wasn't just any poster. It was a wanted poster; And the face on it, wanted dead or alive...

Was that jackass he threw shit at earlier.

"Shit." He muttered to himself, eyes widening. She was wanted? He went and threw horse shit at a wanted woman? He wasn't exactly scared, _{(yes he was)} but he became more wary than ever knowing there was an outlaw out for him. Though, if she came to him, and he had this on hand... She could be a pretty markup. If he turned her in, he'd definitely have the cash to fund the race; Perhaps fund himself to victory. But she was probably dangerous; He'd have to be careful. He doubted she had better to offer than her bounty, and since she'd probably come to him, it was a free meal ticket. He'd just need to lure her into a trap of some sort.

He crammed the poster under his scarf to keep it from blowing away, and continued focusing on the race. He was, of course, aiming for number one: But as long as he got a decent score during this stage, he'd at least be in a good position to scout out enemies that were a threat later.

---

Focusing more on the riders than the course was costing Simon a bit of speed, but honestly he felt he was far better off for it. After all, it was better to have a slow start, than have the race cut short by another racer getting violent with him. He vaguely noticed the Badger Man speed up, seeming to hurry away from the duo riding double. Perhaps the clattering of the strange armor was irritating him? Simon could understand that. It was pretty odd, all things considered, seeing someone dressed up like that for a race. And he could only assume it was very loud, though Simon himself wasn't close enough to hear it himself.

By observing Donny, Simon ended up witnessing the piece of paper smack him right in the face. He frowned. Was someone littering on the race track? If that paper got under a horse's foot, it might make the poor thing lose traction and hurt itself. That just wouldn't do. So, trusting Cecilia to remain on track, Simon begins to search for the source of the paper. It took a little bit, but he managed to locate an incredibly imposing figure riding an equally imposing horse. What was noteworthy, was that the rider's satchel was unbuttoned, and opened wide. Simon noted what seemed to be several more papers were stuffed hastily into the bag, and were currently getting battered by the wind. That must've been the guy- or, well, maybe it wasn't. But it was the most likely guy Simon could spot.

It seemed that he had misjudged the imposing rider. He wasn't trying to sabotage other racers, he was merely having trouble with his bag. Simon leaned forward in his saddle, and Cecilia immediately began to speed up. Her skill at short distance sprinting meant Simon had little trouble closing the distance between himself and the imposing rider. But it took a bit longer for him to work up the courage to talk, which meant he was just sort of riding near him, and looking at him silently. It was incredibly awkward.

Finally, Simon spoke up, having decided that a good deed might give him enough good karma to balance out his bad luck. "Excuse me, Pardner!" He called out, his voice deep and rumbling, yet notably not intense in any sense of the word. "Ah don't mean ta distract you from the race or nothin', but I couldn't help but notice that your bag's come loose. Ah don't want you ta lose nothin' valuable. That'd be rotten luck ta' start the race off with somethin' goin' missing." He had to shout a bit due to the deafening sound of a great deal of horses galloping, but even when throwing his voice to ensure he was heard, Simon seemed overly polite and nervous.

Immediately after, Simon winced. What if this guy didn't appreciate his information. Maybe he knew his bag had opened up already, and was now irritated that Simon had drawn unnecessary attention to it. Ugh, maybe he should've just kept his mouth shut and his head down. Now he'd gone and drawn an imposing looking fellow's attention to himself.

---

So far, so OK. She hadn't fallen off her horse, gotten shot at, gotten dust in her eyes, or anything like that. The worst so far was that one of her buttons came undone. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Neon was probably just as good as she was when it came to riding, so she had little worry. With any luck, it'd be over soon. Although... they're going to New York, aren't they? There's no way they'd make it in one go. They had to sleep, their horses had to sleep, what about when it gets dark out? "So uh... Neon. How uh... how are we supposed to do all this? Are there multiple stop and start lines? Surely they don't expect us to make it all the way in one trip, do they?"

"From what I can remember, there are multiple stopping and starting points. Our first stop is Santa Maria, California. I have no idea how long it's going to take us, but expect the worst." Annie looked off to the horizon. "That's... that's gotta be... what, nine miles? Shoot, we can make that in half an hour!" Annie slapped her thigh as she gave a hearty laugh. "Well, let's hop to it Neon! We ain't got all day, maybe this'll be fun after all! Annie gripped the reigns with renewed vigor, giving a loud, hearty laugh. "Come on, horsey, you ain't gonna be a Slow Ride much longer! HI-YAH!" Annie slapped down the reins, giving the signal to Slow Ride to pick up the pace. Dust kicked up and flew everywhere as Annie passed several more riders, leaving her competition literally and figuratively in the dust.

Neon let go of the reins, giving full control to Annie, now taking the role of lookout."Fine, you ride, I'll keep a lookout. But remember to pace Slow Ride. Going this fast for too long will cost us down the line." "Yeah, yeah, I hear ya." As much as Annie didn't want to admit it, Neon Knight was right. After a couple moments of running at top speed, Annie pulled back on the reins ever so slightly, telling Slow Ride to slow down. She didn't quite know where all the other racers were, and didn't exactly trust herself not to take her eyes off the theoretical road, but she had a feeling things were going swimmingly.

---

The immediate shift in mood that the person Simon foolishly confronted about his bag was like whiplash, while he pulled up, he seemed friendly despite his imposing figure, but when he actually made it next to him, that mood had shifted into anger. Scary face, scary horse, and bad mood were three red flags. Simon immediately regretted talking to this fellow. He should have known better than to take a risk when he had double 13 as his number. Maybe he could just ride away before this scary guy could respond-

It was at that moment that Simon saw this guy's rope seemingly fly right into his hand. Oh God, oh crap. This guy was haunted too. That was definitely haunted behavior. Ropes didn't fly into people's hands on their own. Unless it was really windy, and the person had their hands out. Or maybe if someone threw the rope into someone's hands. But neither thing was happening in this situation, which meant it was a ghost. Simon could feel himself going pale out of fear. An angry, haunted stranger whom Simon had approached while being saddled (literally) with the unluckiest possible number. He was dead, he was totally dead.

While Simon ran through possibilities in his head, and debating as to whether it was morally okay to shoot this guy as a preemptive strike, he completely failed to notice said guy try to lasso a piece of paper only to have the Badger Boy known as Donny Brando snatch it up before he could. All Simon noticed, or rather, heard, was the stranger reacting to Donny snatching the paper. He had declared, quite angrily, 'You're Dead.' Having completely ignored the context, Simon's blood ran cold.

Within an instant, Simon hands tightened on Cecilia's reigns. He lashes them, aggressive for his standards, but very gently for most jockey's standards. Just enough to let his partner know that he needed to move. Now. And move he did, Cecilia was, after all, strongest when it came for her stability and short-distance speed. Before Simon could hear JoJo actually respond to him, and realize that this stranger meant no ill will whatsoever, he was off in a burst of abrupt speed.

"OhgollyOhgollyOhgollyOhgolly.." Simon muttered frantically as he abruptly began gaining on the other racers. Even blazing by a few of them. He rapidly approached the slope, managing to keep his wits just long enough to pull back on the reigns. Cecilia began to slow, but with their momentum, they began speeding down the slope at a quick rate despite his attempts at slowing down. It was, fortunately for both rider and horse, not enough speed to lose control and eat it.

What was not fortunate, was the pile up at the bottom of the slope. Simon let out a very unbecoming shriek, and lurched off to the side in his saddle, tugging on the reigns in order to guide Cecilia off to the side. His horse stumbled as she tried to move despite the forwards and downwards momentum, and for a minute it seemed that both would join the other ten racers at the bottom of the hill. But thanks to Cecilia being relatively used to unpleasant terrain such as the sands in the Devil's Palm, they managed to avoid collapsing, and briefly maneuver off-track in order to avoid trampling or tripping on the less fortunate racers.