Just a thought that came through my empty head, as I watched Cars 2 last night for about the twentieth time.
Useless
"What am I doing here?" he asks himself, looking around at the empty sidewalks of London's narrow streets, clearing the mist that begins to accumulate once again on his windshield. "I can't understand what the hell they want from me?"
For hours and hours he paces back and forth across the largest city in England, anticipating the moment for some one to hail him, his top light shining brightly for anyone to see, but like every other day in his long life...nothing happens.
"Thirty seven years, I've roamed these streets, and with the gas prices going higher..." he begins to bark out to himself, stopping against the curb to let off steam "...how am I supposed to make a living... without any HUMANS to pick up?
"Oh Shut up Tiny!" a deep gruff voice replies from behind, and the black taxi spins around quickly to confront this disagreeing car. However, his eyes widen with the sight of a red double-decker coach, and like him, empty as the day he was constructed.
"You don't nearly have as big a problem as I do!
Couldn't help myself, especially when I saw the taxis and buses in Cars 2. The only question that came to my head was...Why?
Incidentally, if you read my first Cars story...thank you. If you started reading the second...I'm sorry for stopping, but it will be finished. I am going to take it down eventually, and I will rewrite it better than it was. Please have patience, as my Spyro obsession is finally coming to an end.