"Damn Hep, that is fun." Charlie said.
They spent some time picking out weaponry that looked the most likely to inspire fear in the hearts of villains who were out to destroy Tommy's myth and loose chaos upon the world.
Scroat picked up a heavy club with spiked jutting out of it. "Yeah, this'll do." He said, and grinned at Hep.
They packed up the bikes, and Charlie rolled his bike out of the garage. It was a bright red Ducati 999R.
"Damn! How'd you get that?" Scroat asked.
"Being a god has its perks." Charlie said, grinning.
"Can I ride it?" Scroat asked him.
"Uh, no. But I'll let you smell my exhaust." Charlie said.
"Aw, fuck you."
Charlie laughed. He locked up his house and they started riding towards Denver.
In Denver, forces were gathering, and plotting their next move.
***
They stopped at a coffee shop in Denver."Where should we go from here?" Charlie asked.
"Well, I guess Nebraska is the best bet." Hep said.
"Let's get moving then."
***
The road to Nebraska was mostly uneventful, until they were just past the border. That's where they noticed the roadblock.There were four large SUVs parked across the road. They were rapidly approaching the roadblock, and Hep yelled, "What do we do?" to Charlie.
Charlie glanced upwards.
"Ride straight at them! Stay close to me!" he yelled. Scroat and Hep both got as close to Charlie as they could.
"Speed up!" Charlie yelled. His exhaust howled as he opened up the throttle on the Ducati. Hep and Scroat both sped up to keep close to him.
Soon they were close enough to the trucks that there was no way they'd be able to stop, or swerve to avoid them. The people manning the roadblock fled to the sides of the road.
"Hang on!" Charlie yelled to Hep and Scroat.
Suddenly, they were in the air, spinning wildly, and unable to see or hear. They were surrounded my a tremendous roaring noise, and intense wind. Soon they were set down in the middle of an intersection. They were surrounded by corn fields as far as they could see in any direction. The sky was clouded over, and pitch black.
"What the fuck was that? Where the fuck are we? What the fucking fuck? Fuck!" Scroat yelled.
"How did you do that? You don't have anything to do with weather." Hep asked Charlie.
"Called in a favor from a friend." Charlie said and grinned.
"Ok, so, where are we?"
"I don't know." Charlie said. "Probably still in Nebraska, though."
"Which way should we go, then?" Hep asked, looking around the intersection.
Scroat looked down and saw an arrow painted on the road. "We go that way," he said, and pointed in the direction the arrow was pointing.
"How do you know?" Jim asked.
"I don't. But a little faith never hurt. Have you got a better idea, fuckhead?"
"Well then, that's the way we'll go." Hep said. They all turned, and rode off along the road, hoping there was an end to the corn fields somewhere along their path.
The sky stayed black, and the fields went on for ages. Eventually, they got out of the cornfields and were riding across open plains. The wind gusted, and every now and then lightning flashed.
They stopped for a pee break when they saw a tree near the side of the road.
"Where do you think we are?" Jim asked Hep.
"I think we're somewhere in Nebraska, on the side of the road, taking a leak." Hep said testily. "Where do you think we are?"
"Nevermind." Jim said and went back to the bikes.
When Hep got back to the bike, he looked at Jim and said, "Don't worry, pal, right now we're ok."
Seconds after they rode off, lightning struck the tree and it burst into flame.
"Did you see that?" Jim yelled.
"Don't worry, it's just my friend messing with us!" Charlie yelled back.
"I'd hate to see what your friend does to people he doesn't like." Jim yelled.
"Me too!" Charlie yelled and laughed.
After a couple hours, they saw a sign directing them to Omaha. "That's where we'll stop for the day!" Charlie yelled.
***
When they got to Omaha, they found a Motel 6, checked in and went straight to their room. Charlie and Scroat collapsed into bed, but Hep was too anxious to sleep right away. He stayed up reading the literature the hotel had provided about Omaha.He was pleased to learn that Omaha was home to the World's Largest Ball of Stamps and a strange fried chicken joint where they feed the scraps to raccoons and feral cats, and one can sit by a window and watch the animals scuffle over scraps of chicken.
Eventually, he turned in and went to sleep. Jim hung out just outside their door for the night, in case of penguins.
2 comments:
Hey ... hey, what the fick was that episode about Denver? First you make everyone very curious about and how and if some terrorists are playing a role in your script ... and then you chicken out!
Nice dramaturgic trick you're playing here ... dammit ... now I'm officially disappointed. And I'm not even from Denver!
Anyhoo, keep up the good work
badi
I'm not done yet, anything and everything could (and probably will) happen.
:D
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