Before the break of dawn, Loki sees to the readying of his trusty steed. He also make certain his minion eats some yogurt or something since she’d better pedal like the wind.
What? NOT NUMBER ONE? This insult shall not soon be forgotten, foolish mortals!
I bet Thor got a lower number. :`-(
Fly my pretties! Fly!
The mortals gather around their feeding station.
Who controls the ice, controls the universe! Or something like that.
The mortals of rest stop two are spared Loki’s wrath, as they have prepared him a throne.
After 26 miles, he is read for a banana break. (He may also have asked the Chiquita lady for her phone number, but I have been sworn to secrecy.)
Drinking the juice of pickles? What vile sorcery is this?
[Editor’s note: Believe it or not, the Pickle Juice tastes WAY better than Gatorade in my opinion.]
More peanut butter and jelly! Do not delay, for my hunger grows!
The laziness of these mortals… let them have their rest, for he shall reach the finish line all the faster.
…after crowning himself king of Fig Newton Mountain.
