Bulls of Pamplona Speak Out: Exclusive Interview Reveals Distaste for Tourists, Fashion, and More

Malcolm T.: “Alright, gentlemen, thanks for taking a moment out of your busy schedule. You’ve all been part of the Running of the Bulls for years. Let’s start with the basics—how do you feel about the humans running in front of you every year?”

El Toro Grande (The Veteran): “Let me start by saying this—we’re not just here for sport. This is our turf. Every year, they come out, wearing their ridiculous outfits, expecting to be part of some grand adventure. And every year, they get it wrong. Tight pants, flip-flops, bandanas—they all think they’re ‘one of us,’ but they’re not. Not even close. The ones who try to match us? They think it’s a fashion statement, but it’s not. It’s a joke.”

Malcolm T.: “So, it’s mostly the fashion choices you’re upset about?”

El Rayo (The Speedster): “Oh, the shorts. Specifically, the neon ones. Who runs in those? Neon shorts say, ‘I have no idea what I’m doing,’ and I’m here to make sure they realize it. When I see those, it’s like an invitation for me to run faster, just to make sure they understand the gravity of the situation.”

Malcolm T.: “It sounds like you really don’t like the neon shorts. But surely there are some humans you’ve come to respect over the years?”

El Sombra (The Old Soul): “There are a few. The ones who show up, wear proper gear, and just run. They understand the stakes. But it’s not just the humans we think about. We remember our own. Last year, we lost El Rayo Blanco—he was one of us, fast and strong, but he didn’t make it through. The humans? They think they’re the only ones who pay a price here. But we… we carry his memory.”

As El Sombra speaks, a sudden hush falls over the bulls. They lower their heads, and in a perfectly timed gesture, each one points a hoof to the sky. There’s no fanfare, no words, just a quiet, collective moment of remembrance. The atmosphere shifts, and the air feels heavier with the weight of their fallen comrade. After a few seconds, they raise their heads, the moment of respect complete, as if continuing on with their shared task.

El Toro Grande (The Veteran): “But enough about that. The humans—they don’t understand what this really means. They come in with their flip-flops and bandanas, pretending they’re part of some spectacle. They get it wrong every time. I mean, last year—El Rayo Blanco—he would have taken any of them out in a second. But there are always a few who know what they’re doing, and we respect them for it. The rest? They’re just in the way.”

Malcolm T.: “Alright, final question: What’s your advice for the humans next year?”

El Fuego (The Hothead): “Listen up, motherfuckers. You think you’ve got this whole running thing figured out? Nah. You’re in our territory now. You see these horns?”
El Fuego turns his head and points directly at the tips of his horns. “These motherfuckers are sharp as hell, and they’re comin’ for you. You think you’re safe in your flip-flops and neon shorts? Hell no. You’re just a target. So, next time you step out here, you better watch yourself. We’re not playin’ games. We don’t care about your selfies or your ‘bucket list’ bullshit. If you’re not running for your damn life, then you’re in the way, and that’s when it gets ugly. We’re coming for you. And trust me, you don’t want to find out what happens when you’re on the receiving end of these horns. They will fuck you up good.”

Malcolm T.: “Right. Well, that’s… a clear warning. Thanks for the insight, El Fuego.”

El Toro Grande (The Veteran): “He’s got a point. When he’s locked in, there’s no getting away. So humans, take heed—this isn’t a fun game. If you’re not ready for the consequences, maybe you should stay the hell out of our way.”

As the interview wraps up, Malcolm looks around at the bulls—who have once again raised their heads high, ready for whatever comes next. A slight breeze ruffles the air, and in that moment, the bulls of Pamplona are more than just participants in a spectacle—they are warriors, guardians of their tradition, and a reminder that in this race, respect is the most important thing.

Disclaimer: No bulls were harmed in the making of this article, but several participants may have had their egos bruised. Please, for your own safety, wear proper footwear and avoid selfies during the race.