The atmosphere in Decatur was thick with tension and the smell of cheap hairspray. It was June 31st—a date Stan McPoster insisted existed “if you stop letting the government tell you how to count”— and the legendary Five Points Roundabout was about to witness the greatest sporting disaster in Northeast Indiana history.
The Staging Area
By 10:00 AM, Stan had transformed the center of the Five Points into a high-stakes paddock. He’d spray-painted a massive “S” near the Adams Street entrance and a “W” toward Winchester, ignoring the fact that local traffic was currently trying to navigate around his “hospitality tent” (a blue tarp held up by two rusted rakes).
In the crates sat the athletes: twelve feral cats with “nothing to lose” in their eyes and twelve Pygmy Spider Monkeys wearing custom-sewn silks made from repurposed Goodwill Hawaiian shirts.
The Higgins Incident
The race was nearly derailed when Mrs. Higgins arrived from Mercer Avenue pushing a stroller containing a very round raccoon and a confused opossum.
“It’s a matter of equity, Stan!” she shrieked, waving a bag of premium marshmallows. “My Bandit has the cornering skills of a Porsche!”
Stan, clutching a lukewarm gas station coffee, delivered his now-famous “Stanifesto” objection:
“Absolutely not, Higgins! A raccoon has a low center of gravity—it’s practically the ‘doping’ of the mid-sized mammal world. And that opossum? As soon as a semi comes off Second Street, he’s gonna play dead and become a biological speed bump. My insurance—which is a signed napkin from my brother-in-law—doesn’t cover ‘fainting marsupials’!”
The Starting Gun
With the “diversity’ dispute settled by Stan pointing a leaf blower at the raccoon, the race began. Stan blew a boat-show air horn, and the Five Points dissolved into pure, unadulterated chaos.
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The Second Street Maneuver: A tabby named “Rusty” ignored the circular flow entirely. He took a hard left against traffic, causing a delivery truck to swerve into a ditch while his monkey pilot, wearing neon-pink silks, signaled a “thumbs up” to the traumatized driver.
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The Prehensile Pitstop: One monkey, using his tail as a biological bungee cord to stay in the saddle, reached out and snatched a lady’s purse as his cat sprinted past the Winchester Street exit. He was seen three minutes later at the top of a utility pole, trying to buy a lottery ticket with a lipstick tube.
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The Yield Crisis: The lead cat coming from Adams Street actually tried to yield. However, his monkey jockey—sporting walnut-shell goggles—began steering the cat by the ears toward the nearby pizza parlor, leading to a three-way standoff between a cat, a monkey, and a very confused UPS driver.
The “Photo” Finish
The only duo to complete a legal (mostly) lap was Stray Bullet and his jockey, Sir Bananas. They didn’t win through speed, but through a shared interest in a dropped slice of pepperoni pizza tumbling toward Second Street.
As they crossed the chalk line, Sir Bananas performed a celebratory backflip, bit Stan on the thumb, and disappeared into the wheel well of a parked SUV.
The Aftermath
By July 1st, the monkeys had retreated to the trees, the cats had returned to their respective dumpsters, and Stan was seen hiding from the USDA in a cornfield.
The residents of Decatur still argue about the roundabout, but now, when someone fails to yield at Five Points, people just shrug and say, “At least it isn’t a monkey on a cat.” As for Mrs. Higgins? She’s already scouting the aquatic center for her “Underground Raccoon Synchronized Swimming” meet on November 31st.