Bad Influence: First Impressions
By: M14Mouse
Summary: First impressions are important…uhh…maybe, it is the third impression that is important.
Disclaimer: Don't own them.
His mom taught him never to trust strangers.
Ziggy really should have listened to her. He wouldn't be in this mess if he just listened. Well, he would able avoid a lot of messes if he followed that piece of advice. Then again, he was a bit dense…AHHH!
He nearly screamed as Willy Wonky threw something out of the window and a loud explosion followed. Well, he is a Willy Wonky without his memories. Joy for him. He knew he should have walked. It may have taken him longer and he might have die in the desert. At least, it was safer and least death deifying as this. Maybe, he should have made a will. He was too young to die too. There were still so many things he wanted to do before he died like play an instrument.
Oh, crap! Crap!
Barricade!
Barricade!
HOLY MOTHER OF PEARL…Batman is trying to kill him.
Wolverine motioned for a charger. He is utterly insane! He was bad with weapons. Really…REALLY bad with weapons. Well, he was general avoided any sort of fighting. There was a less chance of dying a slow and painful death. He picked up a charger and…oppss. See? Soo bad with weapons. Then Speed Racer did a sharp turn and the charger flew into the back seat. He scrambled to reach it in the back seat when he heard Ghost Rider talk.
"Call me…Dillon."
"What?" He said as he tried to reach the charger.
"My name….You can call me…Dillon."
He looked up at the guy.
"It has been nice knowing you, Dillon."
"Hold on!"
-RPMRPM-
Dillon turned the wheel as hard as he could. Ziggy hit the side of his seat and the charger flew out of the window. Quickly, he fixed his wheel and drove through the barricade. He glanced over at Ziggy who straighten himself up in the seat.
He had no idea what to make of him. It made him feel uncomfortable. He didn't know how to deal with that.
"You are one scary driver." Ziggy said with a mumble.
A small smile played on his face.
He didn't get him. He didn't get why Ziggy wanted to play a music instrument…or why it had to be a clarinet. He didn't quite get why he was in the middle of the desert. He didn't quite get why the guy liked to talk too much. He was guessing a nervous habit of his. To give the guy some credit, he did know his way to Corinth…and he was grateful for that. Even if sometimes, he had to desire to throw him out of his car.
Quickly, those moments passed…and he become…amused.
He couldn't figure out why.
Perhaps, he needed to get out more.
End of First Impressions
Next Chapter: Raining Down On Their Parade
