Fountain Hills, AZ — Timmy “Tiny” Contreras, a local hospice volunteer and crisis counselor, broke all expectations today when he finished the Fountain Hills 10K For the Cure race in second-to-last place.
As he approached the finish line, the crowd tried to cheer, but were stunned into silence at Tiny’s performance.
“It brought tears to my eyes,” said Emily Richards, a local expectant teen mother. “To see Tiny push himself to the limit like that. He’s an inspiration to me and my baby, who I hope will be only half-as-nice. Mainly so he can one day afford to pay all his bills.”
Contreras, who is by all accounts doughy, pasty-faced and suffering from an acute case of eczema that makes his armpits sting any time he perspires, had been training for months in preparation for the race.
“What I feel today, I cannot put into words,” he said, adding that he really just had to “give it all up to God” and to his “amazing mom”, who is currently living at the very hospice where he works.
Battling to see “just one more Springtime” before the Stage IV cancer that has been ravaging her body in an eight-year battle finally claims her life, Josephine Contreras expressed awe at her son’s achievement:
“All those years when we were just the two of us, running that soup kitchen and animal shelter, I never imagined such a day would come.”
Contreras also thanked his ex-girlfriend, Tammy, who recently left him after revealing she was pregnant with twins that “definitely belong to his best friend”.
“She’s always been my inspiration. A person who never thinks of herself. What we share cannot be put into words. I hope I get to be the godfather of at least one of her babies.”
Tammy could not be reached for comment, as relatives stated she has “moved to Maine in the hopes that she never has to even get a whiff of this shithole state ever again.”
As the interview concluded, Contreras insisted we interview this year’s last place finisher, Herman Grant. But Grant told Contreras, quote: “Go fuck yourself, Tiny. You cut me off on that last bend.”
When prodded for information, Contreras merely smiled.
“Herman’s a bit moody is all. Last year, when I carried him across the finish line the day after I’d rescued his dog from that ravine over by the Thomson ranch, I might have carried him a little too roughly. I feel ya, Herm. Let’s go get a Jamba Juice. My treat!”