That day was supposed to be a fun day. Olly and I had organized a charity run for us kids with our friends: each participant would pay the one-euro participation fee and we would all race to the top of the hill just outside our town. The winner would get an ice cream of their choice from our local sellers and the money would go to the local animal shelter.

"Well, nobody's perfect." I shrugged. "Well, nobody told you to toss your expensive gear that we're still paying into the beast's mouth!" the team chief, Escargot — yes, he did kind of look like a snail — yelled in my face.