While the world may have different views on bulls — whether to name 'em, maim 'em or flambe 'em — we've universally adopted a view that they are, in some sense, our competition. The Spanish race against them each year, or at the very least watch tourists get their innards re-arranged at hornpoint. Costa Ricans and Wyomingites and Brazilians ride the suckers, and metric or standard, eight seconds brings the same glorious triumph.
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