Here I sit, upon the shores of Palerock Lake, with pie crust clogging my tailpipe and a pocket full of lasagne. Internally I feel peace, for I am not Jon. Liz Wilson is not my love. It was not I who suggested a fun day of kart racing. It was not I who watched as the woman I loved betrayed me, cackling like a witch as she cast me off the track with reckless abandon... but for a brief moment, it felt like I was. For a fleeting second, I felt that wind in my hair. I felt the bumps on the road, the vibrations of the engine beneath my feet, all the way up to my head. I felt the exhilaration, the desperation - the fury.

Garfield Kart - Furious Racing is the best of times, it is the worst of times. It is the spring of hope, it is the winter of despair. It is every color of the rainbow at once. A beautiful enigma that threatens to swallow you whole and shatter the fiber of your very identity. No, I am not Jon, but for a fleeting moment... I was.