Sometimes he’s annoying and loud, booming out across the room, “Ha-ha! You can’t do this! Remember that you stink at the whole accounting/communication/focus thing?”
To which Courage, and a few good friends, whisper in reply: “Why not you?”
Sometimes Fear is less loud, but still just as tickled. “Hoo-hoo! This’ll be fun! Can’t wait to see what an idiot this is gonna make you look like!”
To which Courage, and a few good friends, declare: “You win when you start trying. Don’t let him defeat you before you’ve even given yourself a chance to step out the door.”
He’s most insulting when he shrugs you off, mid-battle, acting as if he’s already won. Turning his back and walking away, chewing on a piece of straw, without even a glance in your direction, he says to the on-looking crowd: “Move on. Nothing spectacular to see here.”
To which Courage, and a few good friends, respond: “Get up, wipe the mud off your face, and finish.”
Fear knows that finishing itself is spectacular, just because so few people do it.