He took one last drag on his cigarette and snapped it away. Then with that faint, fleeting smile playing about his lips, he faced the firing squad; erect and motionless, proud and disdainful, Walter Mitty the Undefeated, inscrutable to the last. The firing squad was squaring up, guns ready, aiming at Walter. “Any last words?” asked one of the officers. Walter looked up and said nothing. “Alright then, his choice boys,” said the Officer. Boom, a car bomb had blown up one of the officer’s cars. Walter made a run for it as everyone was paying attention to the car, now in flames. Walter made the decision of taking a car in a parking lot…

“Walter!” said Mrs. Mitty. Walter was confused, “Wha-what?” he asked. “You almost hit that family crossing the road!” she said, pointing at the family. “Oh, oh sorry” as he waved to the family. “Walter, are you okay?” asked Mrs. Mitty. “Yeah, I think I will be fine,” muttered Walter. Walter continued his drive home on the other side of town. His wife by his side, was knitting some mittens for Walter as she believed he would like those more than the other gloves she gave him. Their twenty-minute drive was quiet, except for the sounds of cars passing by. Walter was trying to concentrate, but something caught his eye. A nineteen forty-three Mercedes “W 150” zoomed past him and his wife. “Wow” Walter thought to himself, “What a nice car.” Walter then saw a racetrack and started to pick up speed…

“Walter, are you ready?” asked Bob Edwards, crew chief of the dragsters. “I was born ready,” said Walter. “Hahaha, you have to be kidding, right? This guy?” chuckled Owen Lynch, Walters opponent. Walter hated the insolent tone that Owen had put out. “Hey! Let’s see what happens at the end of the race, when I cross the finish line, and you’re nowhere to be seen!” exclaimed Walter. “Ha, in your dreams” Owen laughed. Walter gave Owen a disdainful look. “Walter, don’t worry about that guy, worry about the race,” said Bob. “Alright,” said Walter. Walter headed to his car. A blue, modified Jaguar, looked ready for the race. “Wow” said Walter. “Yeah, took us all week to build this beast.” said Bob proudly. “How much is she making?” asked Walter. “One thousand horsepower.” Said Bob. Walter stepped into the jaguar. Walter was looking at the buttons, “Hey, what does this button do?” he asked as he was about to press it. “No,” exclaimed Bob, “that’s the nitrous in the back, if you press that, we blow up” as he grabbed Walter’s hand. “Your race is started Walter,” said Bob, “go line up”. Walter turned on the jaguar, a low rumble erupted around the race track. Cheers broke out as Walter had lined up the car. Walter did a burnout making the tires sticky as possible for maximum traction. Owen was already on the line, burnout done. His sponsor, “Haggard Garage” made a Jaguar as well. Owen gave Walter this deadly look as he pulled up beside him. The lights were turned on, and then green. A loud screech of the tires and they were off. Walter was a little bit behind Owen, but Owen was starting to slow down. Walter was gaining, at seventy miles per hour, the blue jaguar was roaring down the track. Walter looked to his right and he could see Owen, losing control of his car and started swerving into his lane…

Walter Mitty Daydream Six
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