As I put my hand on the handle to open the gate, I gave Art one more excited look. He kept his eyes fixed on the bull’s head between his legs, glancing at one horn and then the other.
“Ready?” I said.
The bull wiggled and shivered. Art clenched his teeth.
“Ready?” I said again.
Barely audible response.
“Eh, no actually,” said Art. “Get me the hell out of here.”
“Go!” I threw the handle and off they went.
Art’s no longer talking to me, but he’ll come around. He’s pretty proud of that new belt buckle.