On the way back from one of Lightning's races, Foxy and Lightning were relaxing in his trailer, watching a movie on television, although Lightning had gotten bored and fallen asleep.

Foxy looked up at the radio in the corner of his trailer as she heard Mack talking. She knew that it was impolite to listen, but everything that seemed to come from his mouth was just so confusing. Bears? Chicken Coops? Baby Bears? Kojak with a Kodak? She waited until he was finished, then tentatively spoke up. "What was all that?"

"What?"

"All the talk about bears and chicken coops, and coral reefs and whatever else."

He laughed quietly, then explained that it was trucker talk. "It's an easier way to get things through the radio. And a lot more fun."

"It all seems so confusing though…"

"Nah, not once you get used to it. Anything relating to a bear means the police. A reefer is a refrigerated trailer. A suicide jockey is a truck that's hauling something dangerous, like gasoline, or fuel."

"Those sound simple enough…"

"There's more then those, Foxy. There's also handles, twenties, and ten-codes."

"Would you be willing to teach me?" She asked, curious.

"Sure, once we get back home."

"Thanks, Mack."

"Lightning's loggin' z's isn't he?"

"Huh?"

"Sleeping?"

"Oh! Yeah, I guess he is…He's sawing wood, too." She replied with a giggle.

"Good try, Foxy." Mack chuckled, and Foxy pouted.

"Ohh, I'll never get the hang of it." She groaned, flopping into bed beside Lightning.

"Go to bed, Foxy. You'll figure it out when we get home."

"All right. G'night, Mack."

"Night, Foxy." He chuckled, and continued driving.

They got back home within three hours, and Foxy spent the night in Lightning's trailer.

She was awakened abruptly by a nearly-deafening loud noise. She bolted upwards with a scream, and toppled over as she got pins and needles in her feet. She heard laughter, then there was something nudging her upwards in the back. She looked around frantically, all the while being lifted up higher and higher by whoever was nudging her.

"That's one way to get her up."

"That's not just one way, that's the fun way!"

There was more laughter, and as her vision came back into focus, she realized that she was at Flo's, Sheriff was nudging her back onto her feet, and Mack had used his horn to scare the daylights out of her.

"Ohhh, sheezus, I need a cuppa joe." She moaned, rubbing her hand across her eyes.

"You mean a cup of mud."

"A cup of what?!"

"Coffee. You could'a said java, road tar, or battery acid, too." Sheriff chuckled, seeing where this was going.

"I think I've finally found out why none of you think I'm strange. You're even stranger!"

There was laughter, and Mack nudged her. "Your first lesson in CB radio, Foxy."

"Oh. So… all those mean coffee… right?"

Mack and Sheriff nodded, and Foxy drew back, looking at Sheriff in confusion. "You know CB radio talk?"

"Sure do."

"Then could you teach me too? It's complicated enough with one teacher."

"Why would ya want to learn about that?"

"It sounds like a lot of fun. Besides, you get to boss me around…"

He looked at her for a while, then sighed and shook his hood. "All right, but only 'cause ya think I'm gonna boss ya around."

"Thanks, Sheriff." She gave him a grin, then leapt for his hood, draping herself across it from fender to fender.

"C'mon, get off!" Sheriff grumbled, although he was chuckling.

She grinned and slid off his hood facefirst, throwing her arms out at just the right time to begin pulling herself along. Her feet landed with a thump on the ground at his side, and she scrambled into a standing position. "How's this? 'I'd like a cuppa battery acid, extra powerful.'"

"Not bad."

"You're kidding me. I just pulled that out of my… ears?"

"Good save, Foxy."

She gave Sheriff a sheepish grin, then looked at Mack in confusion as he straightened slightly.

"This here's Mack Daddy, come back?" He paused, then nodded. "The Flag's about five miles ahead on that slab. Keep on the five five, there's a country Joe nearby." He paused again, and he caught Foxy's eye.

As she looked at him in confusion, he smirked before responding again. "Keep your eyes open, and you're black stack smokin'. Mack Daddy over and out."

"I'm sorry, WHAT?"

Mack began laughing. "First things first. You're handle, or nickname. Mack Daddy's mine. Come back means 'What's up? What do you need?'. He asked how far away he was from Flagstaff, or 'The Flag'. He's on the right road, or 'slab'. Five five is fifty-five miles an hour, country Joe is Sheriff, and that last part was 'goodbye', and-"

"I know what over and out is, but the rest was jibberish… Why don't I just order a coffee?"

Sheriff and Mack chuckled, and Foxy did just that. She was sipping her coffee, sitting by Sheriff's side, when she straightened as her eyes grew wide. "What?"

"I've got a good idea for a handle!"

"That was fast."

"Yup!"

"Well go 'head."

"Foxy Momma."

"That's actually pretty good, Foxy."

She just grinned and returned to her coffee.

"Now that you've got that figured out, let's start with something simple. You already know how to order coffee extra strong, so try this one. 'There's a catch car in the fluff stuff going one way, and a bear in the air going towards a knuckle buster in the other direction.'"

"Hmm… Fluff stuff is… snow, right?"

Mack nodded, and Foxy grinned. "Yay! Okay, a bear's a cop, so a police helicopter is heading for a… fight?"

Mack gave her a grin.

"Figured you'd have trouble with the first one. It's a speeder bein' chased by the police." Sheriff replied, and her eyes widened.

"Ohhhh…That makes some sense…Let me see if I have this right. There a cop chasing a speeder going through snow one way, and a police helicopter is headed for a fight in the other direction. Wouldn't it make more sense if the helicopter was chasing the speeder, and the cop went to go break up the fight?"

The others laughed, and Mack nodded. "It shouldn't take you too long to figure things out."

"I did hear one of the travelers say something the one time, and I couldn't figure it out. It sounds like something a trucker would say, because it makes no sense."

"What was it?"

"Lot lizard."

"That's a...well, it's a…"

"It's a woman."

"Who gets paid."

"Even though the job ain't legal."

"And she's mainly found around truck stops, and she goes from guy to guy."

"Soo… she's a-"

"Yes!"

"Huh, now why would they think I was one of those?"

"WHAT?!"

"Who called ya that?! I'll throw him in the impound for a year!"

"Sheriff, sometimes I think you abuse your power." She brushed some of her bangs out of her face, and gave him a smile. "There's no need to go all overprotective. It happened a while ago. Besides, that means I'm delicious."

The others burst out laughing, and she grinned.

"Ya sure are." Fillmore replied quietly, and this got her laughing. "Told you."

Lightning, who was settled low on his tires, thumped a front one against the pavement, laughing.

"Only ya would say it that way, Foxy." Doc chuckled, shaking his hood in bewilderment as he did so.

"I don't really care if anyone thinks of me like that or not. Besides, I that I'm the complete and utter polar opposite, and that's all that matters. Other then how well I can fake it." She winked, poking her tongue out from between her teeth as she smiled, and this got the others chuckling.

"Oh, Foxy. What're we gonna do with you?"

"I'm not sure. Grant me magical trucker powers?"

This got them laughing, and she grinned, proud of herself.

"Ohh, Foxy. Ya sure know how to pull a good joke when ya need to."

"Sure do. And don't ya forget it, neither!"

"All right, how's this one. 'There's a pair of fox jaws in a Big Mack lookin' for a male buffalo, but they don't know they've got a smokey beaver on their tail.'"

"All right, first thing's first… Smokey beaver has something to do with a cop…"

"Female state police."

"Let's see… if something's 'foxy', it means it's delicious-" At this point, a smug grin appeared on her face, and she raised her eyebrows, making the others chuckle. "-so I'm going to take a guess and say there's a pair of pretty voices who don't know there's a female state copper on their tail?"

"You're gettin' it now, Foxy."

"Now, to figure out the rest of the mumbo-jumbo. A buffalo leads a herd, like a stallion, and a stallion has lots of females, so… is a male buffalo a 'giggity giggity… all right'?"

"That's one way to put it." Sheriff laughed, and she grinned.

"Okay. so these ladies with the pretty voices are looking for a dude to do the nasty with them, but they don't realize that there's a lady statie behind them?"

"One more thing you're missin', Foxy. Here I thought that was the easiest…" Mack gave her a significant look, eyelids raised, hood lowered, the bulldog emblem on his hood glinting in the sunlight.

The others could barely hold back their laughter as they watched.

"What was the whole thing again?"

"There's a pair of fox jaws in a Big Mack lookin' for a male buffalo, but they don't know there's a smokey beaver on their tail."

"Hmmm…. hmmmm…. hmmmmmmm….."

Mack tried to get her attention, revving his engine and shaking his hood from side to side, throwing the emblem into the sunlight so it glimmered across her face.

"C'mon, Mack, that's right-" She stared at him for a minute, then her eyebrows went up, her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped slightly. The look was quickly replaced by a teasing, playful expression. "Cute. So there's two pretty voices in a Mack looking for a guy to do the nasty with but they have no clue that there's a female state police behind them?"

"Right! And it only took ya about ten minutes longer then it should have!" Mack replied, chuckling.

"This is all completely new to me, so lay off!" She replied with a snort, and the others laughed.

"Whatever you say, Foxy Momma." Mack replied, and she tried not to laugh, but failed quickly.

"I just cannot stay mad at that…" She replied with a smile.

Within the week, Foxy had picked up a substantial amount of phrases, and Sheriff decided to familiarize her with a CB radio. "It's always gonna be on, but this button is what ya use to talk." He gestured with a tire to the mic, and she nodded.

"Seems simple enough."

"This dials across the stations, that's for the volume."

She nodded, looking like she was thinking hard. "Got it." "What's this one in particular for?"

"Listenin' to the police scanner." He gave her a slightly amused look, as though saying, 'What else would I use it for? I am a Sheriff, after all.'

"Okay, that was a stupid question. How about this. What's the range on it?"

"Short-distance."

"Figures."

"Don't ya have one in your trailer?"

"Yeah, but I just use that one to talk to Fillmore. Now that I know how they work, I can use it to talk to everyone else."

He rolled his eyes with a sigh when she grinned.

Another week later, a call came over the radio, and Foxy just happened to be talking to Sheriff at the time. The two looked at each other for a second, and he nodded his hood towards the mic.

She gave him a smile, sat down on the edge of his desk, and picked up the mic.

"Billy Goat here, I got myself into a fender bender tryin' to pick up a free ride at a water hole. Anybody got their ears on, come back?" (Billy Goat got himself into an accident while trying to hook up with a lot lizard at a truck stop, and he wants to know if anyone can hear him.)

"You've found yourself Foxy Momma, Billy Goat, and I'm here to help. What's your 20, amigo?" (Foxy wants to know where he's at.)

"Howdy, Foxy Momma. My 20's 'bout fi'mile outta The Flag." (Billy Goat's about five miles outside Flagstaff, AZ.)

"You need a 10-37?" (Foxy wants to know if he needs a special tow truck made for hauling semis.)

"Roger Doger, Foxy Momma. I got myself in a whole mess of trouble." (He sure does, he got himself pretty damaged.)

"I've got a 37 comin' your way, along with a Country Joe, just to make sure things go smooth as silk." (Foxy's going to go get either Mack or Mater, and she's going to send Sheriff with them, just to make sure things go well.)

"10-4, preesheaydit. Billy Goat over and out." (Billy Goat understands, and appreciates the help. He's signing off.)

"Foxy Momma over and out." She responded, then took her thumb off the button and set the mic down. "How was that?" (Foxy's signing off.)

"You're pretty good, Foxy."

"By the way, you're the Country Joe that's heading out to make sure things go all right. You might wanna get a move on. And either take Mack or Mater."

"Why I oughta…"

"Get going? You sure should! He's waiting for you guys!" She gave him a grin, and he rolled out the door, grumbling. She giggled as she watched him go, and began looking over her book of CB radio talk that she had made. She had first used it to memorize the cities and types of trucks, then had gradually moved onto the harder things. She dropped it suddenly, her eyes widening. She quickly grabbed the mic and jammed her thumb on the button. "This here's Foxy Momma, does Billy Goat have his ears on?" (Foxy wants to know if he can hear her.)

"Affirmative, Foxy Momma. What can I do ya for?" (Billy Goat sure can hear her, and wants to know what's happening.)

"You a Big Mack or an Anteater? That way my 37 knows what he's lookin' for." (Is he a Mack truck or a Kenworth T600, that way Mater or Mack know what they're looking for.)

"Good thinkin, Foxy Momma, I'm a big orange Pete, at the side of the road." (Billy Goat's a large orange Peterbilt, on the shoulder of the road.)

"Affirmatory, Billy Goat, adios." (Foxy knows, and tells him goodbye.)

"Adios, amigo."

She heard the click as Billy Goat hung up, but she stayed on, needing to talk to Sheriff, who had another CB radio somewhere, she didn't really want to ask where he carried it. "Papa Bear, you're lookin' for a big orange Pete, at the side of the road, do you copy?" (Sheriff [with a CB radio], you're trying to find a large orange Peterbilt at the side of the road, got that?)

"Affirmative, Foxy Momma. A big orange Pete should be no problem to spot." (Got it, Foxy. A large orange Peterbilt shouldn't be hard to find.)

"10-4, Foxy Momma out." (Foxy understands, and she's signing out.)

"10-4."

She heard Sheriff reply, and she took her thumb off the button. She stayed in the office, perched in the chair that was at the front of the desk, specially put there for her by Sheriff. She continued looking over her book of codes and phrases until she heard Mack pulling up to the station. "What can I do ya for, Mack Daddy?" (What do you need, Mack?)

"Billy Goat wanted an eyeball with you before I took him to the clinic." (Billy Goat wanted to meet you face-to-face before I took him to Doc.)

"Howdy, Billy Goat!" Foxy gave the large orange Peterbilt a grin, which he returned, after wincing slightly.

"Howdy, Foxy Momma. You sure got me out of a tight spot there." (Billy Goat thanks Foxy for helping him.)

"No problemo, amigo. Good luck to ya." (Foxy tells him that it isn't a problem, and wishes him luck.)

The two exchanged a smile, and Mack hauled the severely-mangled Peterbilt away to Doc's, where the Hornet was already waiting around back.

"Did pretty good for only a few times in."

Foxy gave the approaching squad car a grin, arching an eyebrow. "What can I say, Papa Bear? Foxy Momma knows how to do it good." ('What can I say, Sheriff? I git-er-done, and done right!') XD

He chuckled, and the two headed towards Flo's to grab a cup of coffee each.

Howdy, ya'll! This here's Foxy Momma, how's it hangin'? ;)

I had a lot of fun writing this one, just because I was learning it at the same time Foxy was. Let me know if you guys want a sequel of this one, because I've already got some ideas. XD Hope you enjoy it, and there's just one more thing I need to say:

Keep your rubber down an' your metal up, an' I'll catch ya'll on the flip-flop, this here's Foxy Momma, over and out! ;)