The sun was nearly directly overhead when Max flipped the switch and the v8 roared to life. His black on black yute rumbled and shook, and as he stomped down the gas pedal, it lunged forward across the desolation, pressing him back into his seat and obscuring the view through his one remaining mirror with the dry brown dust kicked up behind it.
Max didn't need to see behind him, he knew he was being followed, being chased. Ever since he had bedded the lady Furiosa and cucked immortan Joe, he knew that that the great beast of a man would lust for blood - or worse.
However, he wasnt afraid. Max survived, it was what he did. And Furiosa was waiting for him in the Jomgobee wastesland, waiting with a war rig full of water and guzzeline for his yute.
Max was lost in thought when he heard the shriek of a motor pushed to its limits coming fast from his left side. He turned his head just in time to see a vulture yute, blood-rust red and spiked like some malevolent steel porcupine approaching him tremendously fast. He swung the wheel to the right, his black yute spun out, suddenly hidden in the cloud of dust it kicked up. He heard the vulture's yute blow past him in the dust, and one again floored the accelerator. Looking out his right window he saw the prickly red yute careen from side to side, hit a rock and flip over. Max didnt have time to spare, his leg ached as his yute accelerated hard, blasting off under the throbbing roar of its eight cylinder motor.
...
That night, Max huddled in his yute, which he had shoveled sand over to camoflage from the watchful eyes of Joe's search party. He drifted in and out of sleep, thinking of his nights with Furiosa. The things she did to him shocked him at first, but she was a resourceful woman. Every disability is an asset, he learned, and pleasure is moutain with no peak. He smiled when he though of his bowlegged walk the next day, the way the seat of his yute wasn't quite as comfortable as he remembered. Mostly he remembered the glow. She always left him glowing. And a little numb. He would have her again.
Three days had passed since he evaded the vulture yute. He hadnt seen another soul since, only the desolation, and the landmarks. He knew each landmark by heart, and each one he passed made his heart beat just a little bit faster. He was almost there, almost to Furiosa and the war rig, and happiness. And he has just passed the final landmark.
...
Max leaned forward as he came over the dune, down below him was the open valley of a crater. At the bottom was a single war rig, sunlight glistening off its chrome exhaust. He downshifted his yute and started to putter down the slope.
The crater was empty except for the war rig, parked neatly at the bottom, its water tank and fuel pod intact. There was no sign of smoke or of struggle, Furiosa had not been found!
As the yute skidded to a stop, Max saw her, beaming, scrambling out from the war rig to meet him. As he tore open the door to his yute and stiffly staggered toward her, he didn't notice the pain in his leg or the aches in his bones, didnt even feel the hard sharp metal of her prosthetic hand on his bottom. All he felt was joy.
After Max and Furiosa embraced and kissed and groped, they settled down to trade stories of the journies. How had she escaped the fortress of the Immortan? How had he escaped Joe's search? It didnt matter, they were together now. They shared food, they shared water from their canteens, and the sun began to go down, a red-tinged haze made the world look surreal.
"Lets bathe," Furiosa said. "Lets start clean."
Max liked this idea, he hadnt bathed in as long as he could remember, but he did remember cleanliness, from the old days.
"We have so much water, we'll never run out!" he said with a grin.
Max grabbed a bucket and climbed up the war rig, he undid the catches on the hatch and flipped it back. As he bent down to fill the bucket, he heard a splashing sound and saw a great white fist emerge from the water, he felt it strike his face and felt himself lose balance, stumble back, and fall from the war rig onto the hard packed earth below. All the air was knocked from his lungs, he couldnt move, he could barely breathe. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement from the top of the fuel pod, his eyes focused and he tried to gasp, his eyes went wide as he recognized the huge form emerging from the guzzeline as Rictus, son of Joe!
It can't be! he thought, It can't be!
One word echoed through the red canyon-
"MEDIOCRE!"
The last thing Max saw was the huge white form of Immortan Joe, dripping with water, jumping down from the rig, landing over him with a thud, strddling him, bringing his magnificent and terrifying head down directly into Max's face. Then a thunk, then nothing.
...
When max awoke, he did not know how much time had passed. He was still in the canyon where he had found Furiosa - and... he could not move. All at once it came back to him. He was a prisoner of Immortan Joe. Joe once again had his black on black yute, Joe once again had the V8, and somehow... Joe had Furiosa!
"Glad to see you are back with us," roared Joe.
Max turned his head to the right to see Joe standing over him, this time flanked by war boys, war boys who had come in on the many yutes that he now noticed filled the canyon.
"What have you done with Fuiosa!" he screamed, straining against the restraints.
"She's fine!" - this time in his left ear - yelled Rictus, "HA HA HA!"
"It's true Max," - Fuirosa's voice now.
He turned back to the right, and saw Furiosa emerge from behind Joe.
"It's the only way Max, its the only way for us to be together, you have to believe me, to forgive me, Max..."
"Enough!" growled Joe. "Do you know what situation you are in, Max Rocksantansky?"
"Go to hell" spat Max.
"I don't think so!" Joe said with a chuckle. "But I will tell you your situation."
"I watched you Max, I watched you and Furiosa, I watched you cucking me."
"Go to hell!" Max spat again. He was a survivor, he thought, but it was clear he wasn't surviving this, and he wouldn't give Joe the satisfaction.
"I watched you cucking me Max..." Growled Joe, stroking Max's face with his enormous hand.
"And it gave me... pleasure."
Max recoiled.
"It's the truth Max." Furiosa's voice again. "He's telling the truth. He sent me out here with this War Rig Max, he had captured me, he could have captured you, easily. But he sent me out here to meet you. He wanted us to meet again. And he wanted to be here, Its why he hid in the water tank, and Rictus in the guzzeline. He wanted to see us embrace, he likes it Max, he isn't mad, he won't hurt us.
"I won't" said Joe, rearing up to his full and imposing height. "As long as you do what I say."
"What do you want," asked Max, not at all convinced this wasnt some trick. But he trusted Furiosa.
"I want to watch." Crooned Joe, "I want to watch the two of you, every time, and I want to watch NOW."
"Free him!' bellowed Rictus, and war boys scrambled forward to loosen Max's chains.
"Strip for your Savior!" shouted Rictus, as Joe stumbled to his feet, "Strip! Do it!"
Max looked at Furiosa, she nodded and began to disrobe. Max undid the buckles of his belt, undid the buttons of his jacket, and finally found himself standing in his underwear, menaced on one side by the towering bald headed Rictus, on the other by the Immortan, looming, still as death, his war boys behind him, bobbing like apes.
He looked up to see Furiosa, naked, magnificent in the waning light.
He went to her, kissed her, embraced her. Hell with Joe, hell with Rictus, hell with the war boys and the dead earth, he had Furiosa, and he would keep her, even if he had to do it under the insane gaze of these freakish ghouls.
He entered her, it felt good. He felt passion, he felt her passion, and then suddenly his body recoiled, a shock of cold water on his back. He shuddered and looked up, it was Joe, with a hose from the water truck.
"Continue!" said Joe, his voice husky. Max didn't know what to think, but if this was the price he had to pay, he would pay it gladly to have his love.
As Max and Furiosa became more deeply entwined, he looked over to see the Immortan Joe towering there, a great white beast, maybe more than a mere man, holding the garden hose, his head nodding up and down rhythmically. He could not see the Immortan Joe's mouth behind his fearsome mask, but he could tell he was licking his lips, and he could hear him moaning.
FIN