This is a work with me (wolfboydude52) and misterbland1. He added details, while I wrote the story. The fancy words and

details are his, but I wrote the basic plot. We each did half of the work (Though, he added more than twice the words that

were in the fiction to begin with.) Chapter three is written, and he did give it less of a touch up than this, because it's more

detailed.

/

Chapter 1

It was a warm august day. Two friends were watching T.V in their college dorm.

"You really need to clean your side of the room." One said to the other. He moved his hand towards a gross object to pick it up, but reconsiders and pulls it away

quickly.

"Yuck. I don't even know what this used to be!" The other gave a single nod. "It's one of the bread sticks that came with the pizza last week. You were saving

for it later, remember?" Bland responded, laughing in his mind at the disgusting sight and his roomate's inabillity to have a clean room. "Uh, yeah, right. Hey,

bland, can you change it to the weather channel?" The other asked. "I was planning on handing it over anyway," Bland said as he changed it to the weather

channel. The newscaster giving the report wore a concerned expression typical of the intense red patch that was about to move over their small college. "God, I

wish this room had some windows. Want to go out storm chasing? We could go down to the cafe- it's open because of finals (which we haven't studied for)." The

other sighed, but nodded in agreement. "Sure, but it isn't storm chasing if all we're doing is sitting in a safe room and watching it." Bland smiled. "Then let's go

for a drive in the van. It's about half the weight of a typical stormchasing vehicle... and this is half the storm they typically go into... come on Dude, we won't get

hurt. Promise." "Being as rash as ever," Dude told Bland, but he had already conceded in his mind that it was a lot better than cleaning up rotten bread sticks.

They looked for their coats. Bland found his on the floor and dude found his underneath a mountain of dirty clothes. He caught a lucky break by finding the keys

as well, neatly placed between a jacket and a T-shirt. He put on the coat which made him gag at the smell. Better smelly than sick; with finals on the horizon,

either of them getting sick would cause them to fail their classes. "Come on!" Bland yelled, wanting to get to the van. "It's cold!" "Coming." Dude said back,

rolling his green eyes. Dude was laughing silently at his friends comment. "It's cold. Heh, it's actually fourty five." He lifted the brim of the coat over his head as

he ran to the front door of the van. Bland did not even attempt an offer to drive. It was bad enough that his permit didn't 'permit' him to drive around with Dude

in the first place. There was no need to get driving

experience during a storm. He slapped his hands on the dash, excited. "This storm will be awesome!" Dude could only laugh at his friend's fervor and start-up

the car, slowly pulling out onto the already wet driveway. In the rural land surrounding their college, there were only straight roads- no obstructions. Bland

thought. "How rough do you think it will get?" As Dude drove off of the college roads and into a lane heading towards town, he looked out the window. The

winds were picking up and rain started cascading down faster than before. They would be soaked even in their coats, if they got out now. But being inside the

van, the storm was neatly soundproofed, and made the two feel invincible. The rain falling and tapping made an almost relaxing sound, but they were to excited

to be relaxed. "Hey Bland, you should try driving in this," Dude suggested. The previously excited Bland turned slightly pale. "You know, that may not

be..." he squirmed under the pressure of wimping out, assuring himself that nothing was going to happen. "Okay, fine. Don't know why it matters, but what the

hell. Move over." Dude stopped the van and moved it over to the side of the road, and they switched seats from inside the van. With nervous hands and a right

foot, Bland slowly got into the lane again, moving at an easy pace. "Come on, Bland, our eighty year old history teacher could chase a storm better than you in

her hoveround. Half the storm they usually go in, right?" "Your eyes match the color of the bread stick." Bland said. "Didn't you hear me?" Dude asked. Bland

sighed, and said "I heard you." The van revved as Bland eased his weight onto the gas. The sensation of an inexperienced driver slowly picking up speed in the

middle of a storm was invigorating to Dude. "Faster! Just push it all the way down, there's no cops!" He took a deep breath, and pushed it all the way in. With a

strong tailwind assisting them, the van managed a spectacular 130 miles per hour, far more than it was probably ever built to do. is the two relaxed into seeing

the stormy features on the sides of the road whiz by, Bland finally relaxed, accustomed to the speed. "What do you know," he said confidently, "this is not too

bad-" Even the soundproofing of their van could not stop the deafening crack of thunder, and they both had to hold an arm over their eyes at lightening

smashed into the ground a little ways in front of them. Even so they were at least twenty meters back, debris from the collision smacked their van, cracking the

windows and denting the sides. "Holy sh- Bland, don't stop! If you try to stop we'll hydroplane right off the road!" But Dude said this too late. Bland instinctively

pulled the emergency break, sending their van into a skid. The van flipped immediately from the combination of speed and wet road. When they struck the

crater that would send them and their vehicle flying off into a nearby billboard, Dude could only think how bad of a choice it was to let Bland drive. And Bland

could only marvel at how odd it was that a lightning strike made a crater in the ground.

/

I fixed the chapter, it should be spaced better now.