French bulls are meaner than other bulls… and Ferraris

JL: There was a bull runner who was gored to death by a bull in the running of the bulls festival in Spain.
Cami:…
JL: No one was shocked.
Cami:…
JL: And I told them not to run with bulls!
Cami: You said scissors.
JL: I meant bulls. Bulls are worse than scissors!
Cami: What happened to the bull?
JL: I’m sure they had to put it down. He became a man-slayer.
Cami: And had to witness that man’s death. Tough life.
JL: It’s like when a dog attacks its owner or a horse trips… I’m sure it’s the same when a craze-induced bull does its job and people die. It gets a taste of flesh and then there’s nothing we can do… like in Ghost in the Darkness with the lions… ‘cept with a bull.
Cami: Poor one-ton man-slayer. He should be given a medal. Stupid people should be taken out of the breeding pool. This is why we have global warming… and American Idols.
JL: I like how it says “runners from around the world attend” as if it’s a profession or acute athletic ability. Pretty much anyone who’s in front of a bull qualifies I think… as a bull runner. I blame Ernest Hemingway really.
Cami: Because so many people read Hemingway and get the idea to run with bulls?
JL: …Yes.
Cami: Not likely. I could’t get past page 14. But I also wouldn’t run before a bull hoping he wouldn’t gore me.
JL: Ol’ Hem was the one who said “a man can be destroyed but not defeated”. Bulls can’t be defeated. They’re like unstoppable forces of pure, wild man-hunger.
Cami: And I certainly wouldn’t drink copious amounts before running in front of the bull I wouldn’t run in front of after not reading The Sun Also Rises.
JL: Bulls are unstoppable. That’s why Lamborghini uses it as a logo. Ferrari would die.
Cami:… you’re getting weird again.
JL: You put Ferrari’s pony in the pit with the devil’s bull of Lambo-I’m-gona-crush-your-mutha-rghini and it’s like… like… a bull against a pony.
Cami: Bet the pony runs faster than the bull, which would make being a pony runner an actual skill… and also less dangerous because they’d probably just blow fairy dust on you if they caught you.
JL: The bull would KILL. That’s how it works. That’s why in French they call a bull a taureau.
Cami: … what?
JL: It sounds meaner… than just bull.
Cami:…
JL: Coz that can mean sh*t too… in English.
Cami: I’m going to go.
JL: And bull’s aren’t sh*t. Oh no! They’re mean. Like taureaus.
Cami: Tauruses? Like the cuddly star sign?
JL: …yeah. So? Stars are mean.
Cami: The things we dream and wish upon? They’re mean?
JL: Besides I don’t believe in that junk. You shouldn’t dabble. It’s like playing with bulls.
Cami: Shouldn’t dabble in anything?
JL: No, in that junk like what you just mentioned. Or anything. Don’t dabble in anything. Dabbling’s dirty.
Cam: Like the bull, right? Is this where you’re going?
JL: Like the unstoppable bull!
Cami: I’ve stopped understanding you.
JL: I think killing someone made the unstoppable gore-through-Spain’s-population bull dirty.
Cami: Oh. Okay. Still think the guy had it coming though.
JL: I would prefer to die in chocolate.
Cami: I would prefer not to die at all.
JL: No you have to choose.
Cami: I don’t like this game. It’s like dabbling in fate and star signs.
JL: You have to die! So how’s it gona be? Bull or chocolate?