Overall story title comes from Blade's thoughts on Nick's new/old paint job in Chapter 8 of All Hallowed: He'd been struck by Nick's looks from the first moment they met; well, his looks and his resounding lack of common sense, but that was another story altogether.

While this particular piece is definitely not by best writing of the series, it is a fun little bit of backstory that explains some of my headcanon as well as introducing another character who will play a major part in this sub-series.

DISCLAIMER: The Cars/Planes Universe and all characters and settings contained are owned by Disney/Pixar. The series CHiPs and all related characters are (or have been at any given time) property of MGM, NBC, and Warner Brothers. I make no claims to ownership and no monetary profit from this work.


ANOTHER STORY ALTOGETHER:
YOU DON'T KNOW THE HALF OF IT

1977

The police car, a world-weary looking Ford with a cracked grille, had barely glanced at him before grunting dismissively and pointing a tire up the hill. "Audition holding is in the lot on the other side of the building, to your right," he sighed, waving Blade by without question.

Blade blinked, a bit surprised. Did he honestly look that much like an actor?

...yes, he decided upon reflection, he probably did. A helicopter rolling along the street, a hundred pounds under spec from scraping by on Ramen and low-grade fuel, polished to a high gloss, and with a particular mix of hope and ingrained cynicism in his eye. He looked exactly like what he was - a starving actor.

This had the potential to be his big break. Television. Weekly television. A regular role on weekly television. He'd had the occasional guest spot before, but nothing for more than one episode, and nothing that paid enough to keep him in the grade of fuel he needed. His engines weren't terribly keen on running properly at the moment, hence why he'd done the last half a block down here with the pavement pounders.

Sighing, Blade turned a sharp right and rolled up the driveway into the parking lot. Whoever said acting was the easy way out deserved a rotor-slap upside the roof.

There was a small cluster of helicopters at the far side of the lot, most of whom looked like they could afford more than Ramen and cheap fuel even on their bad weeks, and none of whom glanced his way. Biting the inside of his cheek, Blade steeled himself to join their group, but a flicker of movement off to his port side distracted him for a moment.

It was another world-weary looking car, this one a solid black Dodge, sitting up slightly on his suspension and eyeing Blade in surprise. "Ranger, right?"

Blade blinked, studying the Dodge for a moment before mentally substituting the near-chartreuse paint he'd last seen the car in, on the set of that terrible horror flick with the giant Bugs. "Mister Forest?"

"Call me Rob, but yes. Come to try your luck at being a Choppy?"

"Yes, sir," Blade answered, silently cursing himself for the sheepishness he felt in his voice. "Kinda hoping for something regular."

Rob's eyes flicked over Blade's flanks, taking stock, and he nodded in silent understanding. "Well, it'd be good to work with you again, so I'll certainly wish you luck."

Again? "You've already got your role, sir?"

"I do. Sergeant Rhodey Graeter, in charge of maintaining the peace - and the officers of the California Highway Patrol."

"Big job."

"No kidding. Especially considering I'm working with -"

"LOPEZ!"

The earsplitting bellow rang off the buildings around them, drawing shrieks from the crowd of young star-spotters clogging up the road downhill of them. By the sounds drifting up off the street, more than one bumper had gotten bumped, and nobody, including the cluster of actual police cruisers hanging around in an attempt to prevent precisely that, sounded happy.

A moment later, the nose of another helicopter, slightly smaller than Blade himself, poked around the edge of the building, eyes wide and searching.

"Oh, not you again," muttered the Dodge, causing a bright, startling grin to break out on the smaller chopper's face. His teeth were blindingly white against his dusky burgundy paint, and his smile could've probably lit half the block.

"Ah, c'mon, Forest, you love me!" Chuckling now, the small chopper made his way around the corner of the building at an awkward hop. Choppers with fixed landing skids, rather than wheels like Blade's, always looked fairly ridiculous on the ground, although the easy grin on this guy's face suggested he didn't particularly care.

"I do not. You're an annoyance and should be repurposed as a ceiling fan," Forest grumbled, but didn't move away as the newcomer bounced up to him.

"You loooove me," the chopper grinned, bumping affectionately up against the car's side and taking the tire-swat it earned him without his smile diminishing one bit. "Introduce me to your friend, Forest, I gotta get the names of all the good-lookin' folks here."

Blade's jaw didn't quite drop, but he thought the expression on his face might have been more suitable to a concussed tractor, and although his mouth opened and closed a few times, he couldn't quite make it function enough to produce words.

"Lopez, you do realize that not every single person in the world wants to make time with you?"

" 'course not, Forest, some of 'em haven't met me yet."

"LOPEZ! GET BACK HERE BEFORE I PUT JALAPEÑOS IN YOUR COOLANT!"

The car's expression spoke volumes.

"...and some of 'em are Maru," Lopez admitted, his grin becoming marginally sheepish but no smaller. "He's cranky. And I will be, too, if I don't get the name of your lovely companion?"

"It's Blade," Blade managed, almost stammering his own name, although that was mostly covered up by Maru bellowing for Lopez a third time.

"Blaze, huh? Suits you, handsome, I bet you run hot," Lopez grinned, brilliant and charming. "Didn't I seen you on M*A*S*H once?"

Blade felt mildly dizzy. He was a bit-part player, he'd never really fooled himself into thinking otherwise, and didn't have the stardom to attract even the usual groupies, let alone another actor. Even one that apparently made a habit of flirting with anything with an engine. His brain, usually happy to assist him during auditions and the rare occasion he was recognized, had currently stalled somewhere between correcting Lopez on his name and that yes, he had been on M*A*S*H, how on earth did Lopez recognize him from that -

"LOPEZ!"

The yell was right on the other side of the building now, and Lopez gave a squeak of what might have been actual alarm, and bounced rapidly around behind Blade, nearly scraping their sides together, his rotor blades brushing over Blade's roof. "Hide me!"

Although he had a feeling he might not want to know, Blade couldn't quite keep himself from asking. "What exactly did you do?"

"Just salt in his coffee, honestly. He drinks too much of it anyway, gonna give himself engine failure, and he should know better, he's -"

"LOPEZ!" Deafening at close range, whatever else he may be. From the sheer volume, Blade had been expecting some big-engined muscle car or even a pickup truck, probably a producer or director. Seeing a little navy-blue forklift with an unmistakeable red cross on his side round the building was in no way, shape, or form what he had expected.

"You're actually dumb enough to piss off your set medic?" Blade asked, not quite able to keep the incredulity out of his voice. Any actor should know better than that. Heck, the extras they rounded up at tractor-calls knew better than that! The two departments you never pissed off were craft services and medical, that was just common sense!

The little forklift stopped short a few feet from him, ignoring Lopez's clearly visible skids on Blade's far side, and squinted up at Blade for a long moment, apparently considering something. "You think he's stupid?" the forklift asked, after an uncomfortably long moment of thoughtful silence.

"Common sense not to piss off medics and craft services," Blade answered, eyeing him a bit warily, and both the Dodge and the forklift snorted in unison.

"Nick has no common sense," the forklift answered, twisting one tine at an uncomfortable-looking angle to haul a bundle of papers out of his toolbelt. Blade caught a glimpse of the text on it when the forklift waved it at him; a script, something involving a stunt fall and... glue?! "That's why he's being cast the way he is. And that's why you're being cast the way you are. What's your name?"

"It's, um, Blade. Blade Ranger."

That resulted in an indecipherable mumble from the forklift, busy checking something on the last sheet of the script, before he shook the papers back into order with a satisfied nod.

"Blade Ranger, huh? Congratulations, kid. Hope you look good in blue."

Wait. What?

"I thought he was the medic?" Blade asked, feeling dizzier than ever as the little forklift rolled off again at a brisk pace, apparently no longer out for Lopez's oil.

"Oh, he is," Forest answered, shaking his head and smiling. "But Maru's worked with Nick here before -" he nodded towards Lopez, who had hopped forward enough to peer after Maru around Blade's nose - "and has a good grasp of who'll work well with him. He's smart, the casting director will listen to him."

"Little brute's half bulldozer anyway, if the rest of the crew didn't listen, he'd just plow his opinion right through 'em anyway. Force of nature!" Nick declared cheerfully.

"And you still put salt in his coffee."

Nick grinned at him, broad and unapologetic, and started hopping back around the side of the building, following the course Maru had just taken. "Gotta have my fun where I can, Blaze. All work and no play, after all!"

"I don't think it's actually possible for you to be dull," Blade pointed out, rolling around to follow him.

Forest, following them both, snorted again. "You don't know the half of it, Ranger. Welcome to the madhouse. And yes, the inmates are running it."

"Maybe," Nick called back, his voice quivering with mirth, "but I can promise you it'll be one heck of a ride!"

Blade didn't doubt it for a minute.

[END CHAPTER 1]


* The above, I am sure, is in no way an accurate depiction of a Hollywood audition, please do not take it as such.

* Rob Forest is a play on Robert Pine, the actor that played Sgt. Joe Getraer on CHiPs, among a laundry list of other roles. Also, and nowadays perhaps more notably, he is also the father of actor Chris Pine.

* 'Choppy' - in CHiPs, the California Highway Patrol (CHP) officers were frequently referred to as 'Chippies'.

* Larry Wilcox, who portrayed Jon Baker on CHiPs, did play the part of Corporal Mulligan in an episode of M*A*S*H, although he did not actually join Robert Pine in the less-than-well-reviewed 1977 flick Empire of the Ants, in which giant ants took over portions of the Florida Everglades. (I shit you not. Check IMDb.)

* Craft services is the department responsible for providing the beverages, snacks, and food (depending on budget) on set, which is why it would be a bad idea to piss them off. (Catering, which provides the actual meals, is separate, but it probably wouldn't be wise to piss them off, either.)

* There is in fact a stunt fall involving glue in the pilot episode of CHiPs. It's on YouTube under 'CHiPs S01E01 Scene 2' if you want to see it.