Drive

Summary: Ty teaches Günther how to drive. Trouble ensues. Number 9 of the 100 Theme Challenge.

Disclaimer: I do not own Shake It Up!, nor its characters. I only own this story.

"HIT THE BRAKES, GÜNTHER!" Ty yelled, gripping his seat tightly.

Sixteen-year-old Günther Hessenheffer slammed his foot on the brake, causing Ty's red mustang to come to a sudden halt.

Ty breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that they were still alive. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. At first, when Günther asked, he did not mind giving him some driving lessons on the way to pick up Rocky and CeCe from the mall. However, had he known that Günther had terrible driving skills, he would have let a monkey drive instead.

"Geez!" Ty said, exasperated. "You almost killed us, man!"

"Well, I would have kept going if that goat butt in front of us had not stopped!" Günther snarled, glaring at the driver of the car in front of them.

"Dude, it's a red light," Ty explained, pointing to the traffic light ahead of them. "He has to stop. He can go when it turns green."

"Chicken beaks, these so-called traffic lights are truly annoying," Günther commented, with a groan. "You do not see such crazy contraptions like those back in the old country."

"Well, since we've stopped, you might as well check your mirrors," Ty said.

"I did already," Günther answered, proudly. "And, like always, I look fabulous!"

"The mirrors are for seeing the cars behind you," Ty explained, with a roll of her eyes.

"Why do we need to see them?" Günther asked, confused. "They are not in front of us, so I do not see why they would be considered a problem."

Ty sighed and asked, "Did you even read the driving manual before we left?"

Günther scoffed and said, "Who reads the manual?"

"Drivers that want to live," Ty replied, groaning. "The light's green. Go."

Günther nodded and drove off, occasionally glancing at the foreign object in front of him that Ty called a "steering wheel."

As they were leaving their Chicago neighbourhood, Ty snapped out of his happy place when he felt the car rattle.

"Dude, what gives?" he questioned, as he turned down the volume of the all rap radio station. "Did we run over a trash can or something?"

"Not that I know of," Günther answered, casually.

"Then, why does it feel like the car is driving sideways on only two wheels?" Ty questioned, sticking his head out the window.

"Maybe it is because the car is doing exactly that," Günther replied, his eyes not leaving the road.

Ty's eyes widened, as he gripped the inside of the car door. His car was driving on the two left wheels, while the other two were rolling on the sidewalk next to them.

"What on Earth do you think you're doing?" Ty questioned, fearing what the answer might be.

"I am driving, I think that is very obvious," Günther answered, with a roll of his eyes.

"On the sidewalk?" Ty questioned, shocked. "Are you trying to kill us, man?"

"Do not worry, Ty," Günther reassured the rapper. "I am driving very carefully."

"That doesn't matter!" Ty yelled, frustrated. "Kids are trying to play, so get back on the road!"

"Look, if those goat butts do not like my driving, then tell them to get off of the sidewalk," Günther growled, impatiently.

Ty was about to respond with a nice selection of vulgar words, when shrill ringing was heard coming from Günther's sparkly pants.

"Dude, don't pick it up," Ty warned him.

Günther ignored Ty, whipped out his phone, and said, "This is Günther Hessenheffer."

"Give me the phone, man!" Ty demanded, trying to grab the betwinkled device, but Günther leaned over, so he was out of reach.

"Oh, hello, dear sister!" Günther said, cheerfully. "No, I am not doing anything important, why?"

"Hang up and drive, Sparkly Boy!" Ty yelled, furiously. "Put both of your hands on the wheel!"

"I apologize, Tinka, but I must end this call," Günther said into his phone. "Ty is very mad at me right now. I will talk to you later."

Ty sighed with relief as Günther ended the call and slid his phone back into the pocket of his sparkly pants.

"That was an important call, you know," Günther pointed out, sending Ty a glare. "Tinka needed advice for a purse she is designing."

"Well, I figured staying alive in my car with you was more important than choosing between glitter or feathers," Ty explained, folding his arms in front of him. "Keep your eyes on the road!"

Günther frowned, but obeyed his friend.

After a quick shortcut through the suburbs, Ty and Günther made their way downtown rather slowly. Günther drove carefully, smiling broadly.

Wondering why they were going so slow, Ty took one look at the speedometer and his eyes widened.

"Speed up, man!" Ty yelled, bewildered. "You going too slow!"

"No, I am not!" Günther cried. "This is how fast a yak and carriage goes back in the old country."

"Well, in America, we drive cars that go much faster than this," Ty explained, gesturing to his mustang.

"Relax, Ty," Günther reassured him. "We are not going that slow."

"Oh, yes we are!" Ty cried, pointing out the window. "See those kids? They're passing us on bicycles."

Günther groaned and said, "Look, I just want to get to the mall and back home safely."

"Well, I would like to get there and back before I turn fifty," Ty muttered, leaning back in his seat.

Günther looked into his rearview mirror and noticed that the cars behind him were honking their horns, repeatedly.

"Why are they sounding their horns?" Günther asked, perplexed.

"Because they agree with me," Ty replied. "Speed up, Sparkly Boy!"

"Very well," Günther answered, stepping on the gas pedal. "But if we crash, it is your fault."

Ty sighed, as the horns behind them stopped honking.

Judging by the way that Ty gripped his seat belt, Günther was not improving much as they entered the Chicago downtown area.

"Slow down, Sparkly Boy!" Ty yelled, frantically. "You're going way too fast!"

"Five minutes ago, you complained that I was going too slow!" Günther cried. "Fast, slow, make a decision, Ty!"

"Watch out for that car!" Ty shouted, pointing to the incoming car ahead of them. "Get back in your lane!"

"I cannot, the car in front of us in that lane is going too slow!" Günther explained.

"Well, you can't drive on this side of the road or there will be one huge collision!" Ty yelled. "Back in the right lane, now!"

"Fine!" Günther shouted, swiftly turning the steering wheel to the right. "Happy?"

"Dude, look out!" Ty screamed, gripping his seat belt tightly.

At the mall in downtown Chicago, Rocky and CeCe were seated at a table in the food court, sharing a large poutine. Their table was surrounded by dozens of colourful bags that contained their recent purchases.

Rocky was in the middle of telling CeCe a joke when a shrill ringing sound was heard.

"Oh, hang on a sec," CeCe said, whipping out her cell phone to take the call. "Hello?" Pause. "Oh, hey, Mom."

Rocky reached for another gravy and cheese covered french fry and savoured its taste, while waiting for her best friend to end the call.

"Really?" CeCe questioned, surprised. "Wow, unbelievable. Yeah, it's no problem, Mom. Besides, you don't cook anyway. I'll just bring home pizza for dinner." Pause. "Yeah, love you too."

"What's up?" Rocky asked, as CeCe slid her cell phone back into her jeans pocket.

"Oh, my mom called to tell me that she'll be home late and to just have takeout for dinner," CeCe explained, as she reached for her soda.

"Why?" Rocky asked, curiously. "She got called in for a late shift at the station?"

"No, she has some reckless drivers in handcuffs and that the whole process of interrogating them at the station will take a while," CeCe explained.

"Was it serious?" Rocky asked, concerned. "Did anyone get hurt?"

"The car was totalled, but the two guys in it were fine," CeCe answered. "She said that the driver was driving like a madman before they crashed into a tree."

Rocky cringed and said, "Wow, I hate those people who think they own the road."

"What morons," CeCe said, bringing the straw of her soda to her lips.

"Look, Ty complained that I was driving too slow, so I sped up," Günther explained, his wrists aching from the handcuffs. "If he did not yell at me to go faster, I would not have crashed the car."

"Well, if Günther didn't drive so recklessly, I wouldn't have had to yell at him!" Ty cried, trying to get free.

"Tell it to the judge," Georgia said, sternly, as she led the boys away from the wreckage that was formally known as Ty's red mustang.

"Please, I cannot go to jail!" Günther wailed, helplessly. "They do not have betwinkled uniforms!"

"No betwinkled uniforms?" Ty questioned, shocked. "That's what you're worried the most about jail?"

"Shut it, you two!" Georgia snapped, shoving the two boys into the backseat of her police car, before slamming the door closed.

Eight down, ninety-two to go! Questions? Comments?

Please Review! Reviews are greatly appreciated! =D

~TeenQueen661