Garden Grand Prix

Oi! Watching that blue sand trickle indoors was doing my nut in, so I trotted through the cat flap to see what was cracking on the patio. Right on the damp, sloping flagstones sat a massive bright green rubber garden clog, peppered with tidy round holes. Prime racing motor, innit! I heaved my round belly over the rim, tucked my plates of meat deep into the toe, and jammed a stout wooden twig upright through one of the top holes like a proper gearstick. Leaning all my plush weight forward, that rubber beast let out an almighty squeak and slid down the slick stone! Fastest racer on the manor, mate!