I'll be the first to admit that I love
that adrenaline rush.
I loved having the chance to be the wild child I wanted to be.
It was all great.
Speed Racer.
I've seen you almost smash into a guardrail on a bridge,
have two head-on-collisions.
One with a car, the other with a bus.
You've hit 95 in 35 mph zone. I couldn't wrap my head around how you did that.
It's scared me from day 1 that one of us could get hurt.
That adrenaline rush kept me going though.
Racing you, Speed Racer, was my guilty pleasure.
However, I don't know what I would do
if I could stand seeing you
crash into a guardrail
or have a head-on collision.
I can't be responsible.
And when that chick told me that she hoped I crashed because it would be funny...
That's why I told you I couldn't participate anymore.
It kills me, Speed Racer.
My resistance can only be so strong.
It kills me that I can't take part in my guilty pleasure.
It kills me that I can no longer race you, Speed Racer.