Hard Ride To Nowhere (Chapter 19)

The scene: The DFO clubhouse, where Yeah Right, Pirate Sloth and Redshirt are reclining on the couch watching pro wrestling.

Yeah Right: So…I mean, there’s no football on?

Redshirt: Nope.

Yeah Right: No high school games? Maybe a classic college replay?

Redshirt: Nope.

Pirate Sloth (reading the TV listings in the newspaper): Arr…it be sayin’ here that the Pro Bowl be on. Thar be yer football.

Yeah Right: The Pro Bowl, eh?

Redshirt: Yup. Want me to change the channel?

Yeah Right: Forget it. This is good.

Pirate Sloth (to Redshirt): But ye have to be tellin’ us, lad…which of these landlubbers do we be cheerin’ on? The mesomorphic masked fellow or the tattooed lad who’s wearing more makeup than me niece?

[DOOR FLIES OPEN]

Covalent Blonde enters through the front door, a red gym bag with gold straps over her shoulder. It has MMA pads sticking out of it, as well as a trophy.

Covalent Blonde (dropping her gym bag on Yeah Right’s lap and talking to him without looking): Hey, Marc, hold onto this for me. I’ve gotta crush a Gatorade.

Covalent Blonde goes into the kitchen as the three on the couch look at each other.

Pirate Sloth: Arr.

Yeah Right: Right? Like we’re not even here.

Redhsirt (nodding in agreement): Yup.

Yeah Right: I mean, what do those guys have that we don’t? We’re fun, right?

Pirate Sloth: Aye.

Yeah Right: We could go on adventures and fight giant gorillas, right?

Redshirt: Sure..

Yeah Right: I’m sick and tired of being ignored! I’m gonna go into the kitchen and give her a piece of my…

Redshirt (pulling the trophy out of the gym bag and reading the inscription): “Most Dynamic K.O. In Under 30 Seconds.” Huh. They’ll give out awards for anything these days.

Covalent Blonde comes back in with a half-full Gatorade.

Covalent Blonde: Oh, hey, guys! When did you get here?

Yeah Right (taking the trophy from Redshirt and putting it back in the bag): Just now! Hey, that’s a great trophy!

Covalent Blonde: Eh, my shelf at home is getting full, so I thought I might leave a few of ’em here. So, you guys haven’t seem Marc or OSZ? What about Moose?

Pirate Sloth: Nay, the place be vacated when we arrived. But thar be a note for ye, left upon the television.

Covalent Blonde (peeling the sticky note off of the TV): Huh. Well, at least they…

As Covalent Blonde reads the note, her brow furrows.

Covalent Blonde (irritated): Those idiots! OK, guys, hope you’re up for a road trip.

Yeah Right: Us? Actually we were just…

Covalent Blonde shoots Yeah Right a withering stare, which he appropriately withers under.

Yeah Right: Road trip! Sure! Sounds great!

Cut to: A grasshopper green Toyota Prius making its way down a two-lane highway. OSZ is at the wheel with Future Moose in the passenger seat and Marc Trestmans Windowless Van in the back.

Future Moose: Look, I appreciate the fact that you’re trying to save gas, but could we maybe go a teensy bit faster?

OSZ: I told you, I get the best mileage if I drive at a constant speed.

Future Moose: But can’t that constant speed be, I don’t know…maybe sixty or so?

OSZ: Come on…these cars are the future! Right? I mean, they are the future…aren’t they…?

Future Moose: Well…

Suddenly a bright red Corvette pulls up next them with two girls in bikini tops inside. They’re waving at OSZ and the Prius.

Bikini Girl #1: Hey, guys! Thanks for saving the planet!

Bikini Girl #2: Woooo!!!

The Corvette zooms past them and races off into the distance.

OSZ (avoiding Future Moose’s glare): I mean…sixty would probably be okay.

In the backseat Marc Trestmans Windowless Van lights up a custom glass bong.

OSZ (glancing at the rear-view mirror): What the heck? Where did you get that?

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: I told you, man, I’ve got, like, little stashes everywhere, man.

OSZ: But I just bought this car a few days ago!

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: From that lot on 2^nd Street, right?

OSZ: Yeah…

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: Thought I recognized this bong, man. That’s a nice place. That lot down on Fourth, man…no way I’d leave a bong like this in one of their cars.

OSZ: Look, just get rid of it! I’m not going to get pulled over just because you can’t wait until we stop to light up.

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: It’s cool, man. I’m pretty sure weed’s, like, legal now, man.

OSZ: No, Marc, it’s not. Moose, help me out here, would you?

Future Moose: Hey, in the future weed is totally legal. It’s Twinkies that I outlawed.

OSZ: Seriously? Twinkies?

Future Moose: It got pretty ugly, too. First we had the Twinkie Insurrections, and those led to the Great Twinkie Wars…it was a pretty dark time.

OSZ: There were wars over…Twinkies?

Future Moose: Oh, yeah. There are still resistance fighters out there. They call themselves the Brotherhood of Underground Twinkie Tasters.

OSZ: You know, you future people are terrible with acronyms.

Future Moose: No kidding. The Acronym Syndication Society has a ton of complaints to deal with every year.

Smoke from the back seat flows into the front, filling up the car.

OSZ: Marc…c’mon, man, you’re getting the car all smoky.

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: Whoa, sorry, man! Like, you should roll down a window, man.

OSZ: That messes up the aerodynamics.

Future Moose: Don’t be a slave to your car, OSZ. It sets a bad precedent in the future.

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: Hey, check out all the lights, man!

OSZ: Finally! We’re here!

To be continued…