The freight train picks up speed as it races down the track, passing under the mountain tunnel. It hurdles over the first bridge, unaware of the dynamite laid on the second.

This doesn’t seem extravagant enough… No, Gomez really needs to clear his head, plain old dynamite won’t do it. His maniacal grin widens, cigar between his teeth.

He releases the passenger train, sending it barreling toward the second bridge and the unsuspecting freight train.

“If two trains leave the station three hundred miles – to scale – apart, and one goes ninety five miles an hour, and the other goes eighty five miles an hour, which will reach the dynamite first?”

BAM

Gomez’s question is answered. They tie.