The Road to Hell
Lightning McQueen tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and hummed along with his three companions to the sound of the radio, as they drove down the many long winding roads that lead towards Radiator Springs.
The young racer and his friends and racing rivals, Bobby Swift, Cal Weathers and Dale Earnhardt Junior were returning from a visit to Cal's uncle, retired racing veteran 'The King' Strip Weathers. Electing to drive back to Lightning's home, where the four were to remain until the beginning of the next Piston Cup season, rather than fly or be driven, the group had hired a car and set off on their impromptu road trip.
The journey had thus far gone smoothly, the only slight problem being that the radio seemed permanently stuck on a channel that played nothing but Rascal Flatts. However the boys didn't really mind that yet.
"LIIIFE IS A HIIIGHWAAAY-!" Bobby randomly shrieked out, painfully shrill and off key.
The others groaned.
"Well I'm never listening to that song again." Junior remarked with a roll of his eyes. "Bobby, there's a reason you went into racing instead of music."
Said individual merely shrugged and flopped carelessly back in his seat.
"It's catchy."
"Yeah and now, thanks to you we can't listen to the rest of it." Lightning muttered, switching off the radio somewhat huffily.
"Ah, I wouldn't really worry about it too much. It'll be on again in ten minutes anyway." Cal glanced up knowingly from the screen of his phone, where he was engaged in an intense duel with his long-time Words with Friends nemesis, a person called 'The Chicken is Your Superior'.
Much to his friends' amusement, the name had never failed to offend Cal.
"What are they trying to insinuate? That a chicken would be smarter than me? That a chicken would be better than me? That a chicken would be...superior; to me? Or, something."
"'Insinuate'?" That's a BIG word!" Lightning marvelled at his friend's unexpected burst of vocabulary related brilliance. "Why don't you use that one, 'Chicken' won't know what hit them."
"...Don't know how to spell it." Cal mumbled sheepishly.
He slowly and painstakingly typed in the word 'racecar'.
"Take that!"
42 seconds later his phone beeped with a Words with Friends notification.
'Eutrophication'.
Damn. 'The Chicken' was good.
The young racer chewed his lip thoughtfully for a moment before menacingly jabbing at the screen with his typing finger. Oh, 'The Chicken' was asking for it.
"Let me see that." Junior reached his arm back and snatched the phone from Cal's hands.
"Hey!"
"Give us a look." Bobby leaned eagerly over the back of Junior's seat to see what the older racer was snickering at. "'Ga-nat'," he read before joining in the laughter.
"Hey Cal, what's a 'ga-nat'?" Junior howled in no small amount of glee. "That the name of those toy stuffed animals you sleep with?"
"Or the name of the critters in your bed?" Bobby crowed in delight. "So when your mummy tucks you in at night she tells you 'don't let the ga—nats bite!'"
The two friends, obviously astonished by their own indomitably hilarious wit, proceeded to laugh themselves half to death, high fiving and fist bumping like two people who had just won the lottery.
Lightning, having just stopped at one of the few lollypop crossings dotted at odd intervals along the four companions' chosen route, took the opportunity to bang his head on the steering wheel. Repeatedly. The horn honked in protest, drawing a score of disapproving frowns directed towards the group in the car, to which the racing celebrity responded most maturely by giving them the finger. Parents crossing the road with their children gasped and covered their youngsters' eyes, hurrying them out of sight.
"It's 'gnat' you idiot." He sighed in frustration, having briefly glimpsed the phone in Junior's hand as he straightened up to drive away from the lollypop crossing. "You know, silent 'G'?"
"Yeah!" Cal finally spoke up. Then he paused, "...Wait what's a 'gnat'?"
"Why use a word you don't even know the meaning of?" Lightning demanded incredulously.
"Cuz otherwise he'd never win." Bobby smirked as he settled back and closed his eyes comfortably. "Oh wait, he doesn't anyway." He added with a wink at a pouting Cal.
"'You' never win!"
"Good comeback, Cal." Junior teased. "Real intelligent there."
"You're one to talk. 'Ga-nat'." Lightning scoffed in utter disbelief. "Why-why-why-" he let out a snort, "why am I friends with you lot?"
"The hell if I know." Junior shrugged, passing the phone back to Cal. "You don't even play Words with Friends with us."
Lightning eyed his three companions in the rear-view mirror pointedly.
"I can't imagine why."
O0o 0o0 o0o 0o0
"Are we there yet?"
From his place slumped against the inside of the door of the backseat, Bobby lifted his head, eyebrows raised and an expression of mock concentration plastered on his face.
"Hmm, let's see," he pretended to ponder, gazing hard at their surroundings as if looking for something, "no Flo's V8 Cafe, no field of cows waiting to be tipped, no recognisable people around to greet us; and here's the real enigma for you...no sign welcoming us to Radiator Springs!" Bobby gasped and fell back, hand clasped dramatically over his heart in apparent shock. "No, Junior. It would appear that we are not, in fact, there yet."
Junior, for lack of a better retort, opted for the adult course of action and promptly stuck his tongue out at Bobby in the rear-view mirror.
"Oh that's mature. How old are you again?"
"Why don't you see if there's anything on the radio, Lightning?" Cal suggested distractedly. "...Let's see if 'The Chicken' can best 'tires'."
Lightning did so.
LIFE IS A HIGHWAY—
Lightning winced, immediately flicking it off again.
"Nope."
Cal's phone beeped and the young racer checked it.
"'Expostulating'? The hell?"
Lightning laughed at his friend's expense.
"Well, Cal," he chuckled mirthfully, "it's beginning to look as though the chicken might actually be your superior after all!"
0o0 o0o 0o0 o0o
"Hitchhiker!"
Lightning, who had been in an almost trancelike state as he drove along, narrowly avoided running their car off the road in his surprise over Bobby's outburst. Regaining control of himself and the car, he shot an irritable glance at his oblivious backseat passenger in the rear-view mirror...he seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.
"Bobby, I know 'random' is your middle name, but there's really no need for you to live up to such high expectations every minute of every day." McQueen grumbled. "You're hardly going to lose your reputation if you just give it a rest for half an hour. I promise you."
Bobby was ignoring him however.
"Nooo," he gestured randomly, accidentally walloping Cal in the face in the process, "I mean there's a hitchhiker. As in, someone hitchhiking. On the side of the road. Back there. Hitching hikes."
"Ooohh, we should give them a ride!" Junior, who had heretofore been entertaining himself by pulling a wide range of strange faces at his reflection in the front passenger's side mirror, sprang to life.
"What's wrong with you? You don't pick up hitchhikers!" A scandalised Lightning spluttered in horror. "They might have...flees!"
He was certain there was a more important reason for not picking up hitchhikers but it currently eluded him.
"Or 'ga-nats'." Cal huffed, rubbing his sore face and glaring at Bobby resentfully.
Lightning carefully contemplated this possibility. After all, they were talking about hitchhikers. At this point, he wasn't ruling out anything.
"That too." He conceded. "Or some sort of terrible disease or..." he went blank, "...what else might a hitchhiker realistically have?"
"Knives?" Cal offered helpfully.
"Yes!" Lightning proclaimed enthusiastically.
"A gun?" Cal continued.
"Uh huh," McQueen started nodding along as the others joined in with their creative contributions.
"Drugs?"
"Matches?"
"A pitchfork?"
"A blowtorch?"
"A bomb?"
"Poison?"
"No understanding of English whatsoever?"
"A pet pidgin?"
Lightning stopped nodding.
"Bad breath?"
"A singing voice worse than Bobby's?"
"Messy food?"
"Uh, maaaybeee," he hedged.
"A bad taste in jokes?"
"...Not quite what I was looking for."
"Words with Friends?"
"We're getting off topic here guys." Lightning cut them off quickly. "The point is we're not picking up any hitchhikers. They're too dangerous."
"But how?" Bobby inquired, genuinely puzzled by this.
"Jees, you can't half tell you're the kid who never listened in school." Lightning murmured quietly, then raising his voice, "Well, Bobby, apart from all the reasons we just listed, think about it. We're famous racers who live in the public eye. At the very least this hitchhiker could pester/blackmail us into doing whatever they want. We'd be putting our reputations at risk."
"...So, no hitchhiker?" Bobby asked ruefully.
"No hitchhiker." Lightning agreed. Blissful peace pervaded the car for an entire 60 magical seconds. Then,
"LIIIGHTNNNING," Junior whined annoyingly, "please, please, please can we go back for that hitchhiker?"
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
"...Pleeeeease?"
"Ask me one more time. I dare you."
"Plz?"
"I'll stop singing Life Is a Highway!" Bobby threw in quickly.
Now that was just too good an offer to refuse, considering that, the previous conversation aside, the youth had been alternating between singing, humming and whistling the well-known song for a solid 40-odd minutes. Sighing resignedly, Lightning grudgingly turned the car around to the enthusiastic cheering of Junior and Bobby.
Author's note: I AM ALIVE!
So! My Dad told a joke. Naturally, it was a 'dad joke'. This story just sort of happened after that. I'm sorry. I don't really know why I'm inflicting it upon the world.
Cars doesn't belong to me! And at this point I almost wish the story didn't either.
I wanna know your thoughts! Maybe? So plz R&R. Just no flames!
'Cookie'.