Wile E. coyote and Road Runner

(The sun hovered lazily over the vast, scorching desert, casting long shadows on the rocky cliffs. Wile E. Coyote lay sprawled on the ground, covered in dust, with bits of a broken ACME rocket scattered around him. His fur was singed, his tail was still smoldering, and his expression was one of absolute defeat. A few feet away, the Roadrunner stood on a rock, tilting his head.)

Road Runner: "Beep beep?"

Wile E. Coyote: (groaned, pulling a crumpled sign from his fur.) [I QUIT.]

(The Roadrunner blinked, looking down at his long-time pursuer. The coyote wasn't reaching for another gadget, wasn't lunging forward in some desperate attempt to catch him—he was just lying there, arms spread out, defeated.)

Road Runner: "Beep beep?"

Wile E. Coyote: (sighed, flipping the sign over.) [WHAT’S THE POINT?] (He slowly sat up, brushing the dust off.) [NO MATTER WHAT I DO... NO MATTER HOW MUCH I PLAN...] (He paused, looking at the wreckage around him.) [I NEVER WIN.] (The Roadrunner, usually quick to zip away, stayed put, tapping his foot. Then, to Wile E.'s surprise, he plopped down on the rock, making himself comfortable.) Road Runner: "Beep beep."

Wile E. Coyote: (gave him a skeptical look.) [WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘BEEP BEEP’?]