I know the last chapter ended short, but I felt that I needed to finish it, or else I would lose momentum. Disclaimers are in previous chapters, to which I would like to include that I am in no way affiliated with Yum Foods (KFC, Taco Bell, A&W, Pizza Hut, Long John Silvers), White Castle, McDonalds, Arby's, Wendy's, Chick Fil-A inc, Universal Studios/NBC, Fox Communications, nor the makers of Gardenburgers.
"So you didn't just fall here from space?" I asked.
"Nope," Knuckles replied, "or else we would have just fallen to the ground as tiny particles of ash."
"So what exactly happened to that particular spacecraft?"
"Eggman hit it with… oh, some sort of special missile…"
"Incendiary," Blaze responded, "incendiary missiles. Once they hit, they released clouds of thermite. The missiles then ignited the thermite, consuming all of the oxygen in the open compartments until the crew sealed them off."
"I bet the thermite meted through the blast doors and consumed more oxygen," I said.
"Exactly. I take it you know what thermite is," Blaze said.
"I don't," Knuckles added.
"It's a combination of aluminum powder and a metal oxide powder, usually iron. When ignited, the mixture burns at a temperature hot enough to melt steel, and is also self-oxidizing, meaning that the only way that a thermite flame will extinguish is when there is no more thermite left to burn: for that reason, if I ever build an incendiary device, I'm filling it with thermite," I said.
"Yeah, that's why we headed to the escape pods," Knuckles said.
"Hey Blaze, if you're from another dimension, then what were you doing with Sonic?" I asked.
"Oh, he fucked up again," she replied, "and I had to bail him out, like your government had to bail out all of those banks and automakers."
"How did you learn about that?"
"Wal-mart," they both replied.
"Why did your government bail those guys out anyways?" Knuckles asked.
"The banks made a lot of "subprime" loans to borrowers who neither had the income nor the discipline to pay them back, as well as making loans to others that were way larger than they should've been."
"Then the borrowers weren't able to pay them back," Knuckles said, "Why didn't they just fail?"
"And what went wrong with the automakers?" Blaze asked.
"The automakers are unionized under the United Auto Workers, or the UAW, and they had Ford, GM, and Chrysler paying pensions to retired workers, unrealistic wages, and expensive benefits. The government accused these automakers of not building cars that people want, because it turns out that people, in fact do not want vehicles that will allow them to ferry the whole family to the store, practice, school functions, hold a week's worth of groceries, and allow them to survive a crash because they want to drive tiny, two-seater deathtraps that can be blown off the road with a decent breeze, and have no cargo capacity whatsoever. The real problem with General Motors though, or as I'll be calling them, Government Motors, actually lost money on each and every vehicle they made, courtesy of the UAW. Both the banks, Chrysler, and GM apparently were "too big to fail" and the United States Government "bailed" them out, or rather bought them out."
Neither Knuckles nor Blaze had any more questions right now (and they're probably trying to grasp the concept of a government buyout, and of course, I still have a long way to go before US 40 reaches I 65. I look down at the clock: it's now 8:23 PM, and this little strip of the planet is turning away from our closest star (at which point I turn on the headlights), and then it hits me very hard: I haven't eaten a damn thing in twelve hours.
"Ya hungry?" I ask, then look over to Knuckles, riding shotgun, and he gives me a look that says: 'did you really have to ask me that?' I look down the road ahead, and fortunately, we're heading into a town.
"Wahddya want?" I ask, "There's White Castle, McDonalds, Arby's… KFC… Chick Fil-A, Wendy's, Dairy Queen, and Taco Bell. What's yer pleasure?"
"WHAT in the hell are those?" Blaze asked.
"Fast food places," I replied, "which one ya want food from?"
"I don't know anything about those places," Knuckles said.
"Arby's it is then, I'd ask ya what y'all want, but apparently you haven't been here before."
"Well, thank you Captain Obvious!" Blaze said.
"It's what I do. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to fly."
"Would ya quit bein' such a smart ass?" Knuckles asked.
"Who, me?" Blaze replied, "I can't help it if this guy's bein' an idiot, and I hate idiots!"
"Then this planet's gonna annoy the hell outta ya," I tell her as I ease into the center turn lane, with my signal on, then turn left into the parking lot, and pick a spot away from where most people park.
"Stay down, shut up, and sit tight, I'll be back with some grub," I tell Blaze and Knuckles as I shift into park and kill the engine. I then set the parking brake, and then go inside.
As soon as I enter, I see a hambeast with a couple of her rowdy kids at the register, and I immediately figure that this is going to take longer than I'd like.
"What kind of beef does your roastburger have?" the hambeast asked the sixteen-year-old girl at the register.
"It has slices of our famous roast beef-"
"But you grind it right?"
"No ma'am, it's sliced and placed-"
"Why do you call it a burger if the beef isn't ground up?"
At this point the manager, a guy who's not much older than the cashier, comes up to try to get some reason through this idiot's tiny brain.
"It's supposed to be different from re-"
"BURGERS ALWAYS HAVE GROUND BEEF! I'LL SUE YOU FOR FALSE ADVERTISING!"
"That's HAMBURGERS you moron!" I just had to end this before a few minutes turned into a few hours of this pointless argument "That is supposed to be different! Are ya gonna sue Gardenburger for false advertising too?"
The hambeast turns to me and looks like she's ready to rip my head off and shit down my neck. At this point, I don't care. This day has been sooooo boring, I'm hungry, I've got two hungry animals in the car, and right now, I'm ready to fight, just for something to do. The hambeast steps up to my face and I don't move at all.
"You've got a lotta nerve, young man."
"And you've got a lotta fat, bitch."
"I oughtta knock you into next week!"
"Good, maybe by then you'll be so fat that I can just roll you into the street!"
We stare each other down for a few seconds, and then the hambeast shoots me the dirtiest look, then steps away, then calls her kids, and all of them leave, at which point I step up to the register.
"For here or to go," the cashier asks me.
"To go, twelve Arby beef 'n cheddars and three jamocha shakes."
"The cashier rings up my order, and the manager looks at me, a little relieved, and a little scared at the same time.
"You weren't gonna be able to reason with that moron," I said as I hand the cashier a couple of twenties.
"Yeah, but you know she was about to hit you right?"
"Yeah, I know, and it woulda been a helluva brawl, but luck tends to favor the bold," I replied as I got my change back from the cashier. I then got my order, after waiting for a few minutes, and took it back to my car.
"Whad'jya get us?" Knuckles asked.
"Arby melts, four each, and three shakes," I reply as I pass them out.
"It's about damn time," Blaze said, "what the hell took ya so long?"
"A stupid lardass."
"How stupid?"
"She threatened to sue these guys for having sliced beef instead of ground beef in their "roastburgers"."
"Is the beef supposed to be sliced?"
"It sure is, the sliced beef is their thing, which Arby's advertises quite extensively."
"Did she have kids?"
"Unfortunately."
"What's wrong with that?" Knuckles asked.
"Some people just shouldn't fuck," Blaze replied.
"How did you get such a dirty mouth?" Knuckles asked.
"There are some words that are sufficient to express the idea I'm trying to communicate. It just happens that those words are those that others consider "dirty" or "bad"," Blaze replied.
"Yeah, well I also don't get how you went from incredibly shy to spouting your smart mouth," Knuckles said.
"It was Sonic," Blaze replied.
"Don't you consider him an idiot?" Knuckles asked.
"I do, but… *sigh* I dunno. Sonic is one of those people that are kinda hard for me to stand normally, but when he's the hero… he just gets things done… but here lately… ugh, it's like all of his intelligence is just being drained out of his skull. I mean, I care deeply about Sonic, and I really think that something is wrong."
"When did it start?" I ask as I slow down for what will probably be the last light before a long stretch of two-lane highway.
"Oh… it started when that squirrel hussy, oh, I forget her name…"
"Sally Acorn?" Knuckles asked.
"Yeah, Sally is getting closer to Sonic, probably 'cause her dad doesn't like Sonic at all, and I don't know what she's telling him."
"I know you're well aware of your games, but are you at all familiar with the fan base of those games?" I asked.
"Like Sonic and Shadow fanfiction?" Blaze asked.
"Ha ha ha! Those crack me up," Knuckles replied, "I just like the thought of Shadow just pounding Sonic in the ass!"
"Well," I start, "Sally Acorn is like the Jeff Gordon of the fan base."
"Who?" Blaze and Knuckles ask.
"There's a sport in this country where people in cars that look like those on the road drive around an oval at very fast speeds, and there are a lot of fans of this as well. Jeff Gordon is one of those drivers, and he's actually pretty good, but fans of the sport either like him or hate him; there's no in-between."
"Oh…"
By now, it had turned completely dark on this stretch of US 40, and I'm keeping the Roadmaster at 60 when a couple people on what look like rollerblades, with lights on their helmets whiz past the car at what I'm guessing to be 90.
"I saw those things in Wal-mart," Knuckles says.
"What exactly are they?" Blaze asks.
"They're basically gas-powered rollerblades. There's a small engine, carburetor, and transmission on the back of each one, and it seems like those would be the V-twin models, but the gas tank is worn as a backpack, and the throttle, clutch, brake control, and shifter in a couple of grips," I said.
"So you've come across these before?" Knuckles asks.
"Come across, hell I invented them!"
"You what?" Blaze asked.
"I invented those," I repeat
"Damn dude, what was the hardest part?" Knuckles asks.
"The transmission by far," I reply, "getting six gears in that small of a space was the bitch."
"How do you sync the engines?" Blaze asked.
"The throttle plates on both the carbs are mechanically linked"
"Then how do you turn? Wouldn't one set of wheels have to turn faster than the other?" Blaze asked.
"All ya have to do is kick one foot out. The throttle cable doesn't loosen, so the plate opens a little more for the outer blade, allowing those wheels to move a little faster."
"Then wouldn't the clutch let out a little for the outer blade as well?" Knuckles asks.
"It would if I used a cable, but I used an electromagnetic clutch instead."
"A what?" Knuckles asked.
"It's a clutch with two plates, like a friction clutch, but the plate from the engine has fixed neodymium magnets, and the plate to the clutch has electromagnets. When the clutch lever is let out, electricity goes to the electromagnets and orients the polarity to attract to the magnets on the other plate, and then both plates spin at the same speed without touching each other."
"Are you single?" Blaze asks me.
"Yeah, why do you ask?"
"Have you ever been on a date?"
"No, and I don't know why you're…
…you're trying to say that I'm the kind of person that needs to reproduce, aren't you?
"Exactly," Blaze replies, "you're too damn smart to die without fathering children."
"I take it you've seen Idiocracy," I say to her.
"Yes, and it's a real possibility."
"As much as I hate to interrupt your conversation, do you have something for me to do besides talk?" Knuckles asked.
"Open up that glove compartment."
Knuckles opens up said glove compartment and pulls out my portable PS2 that I moved, along with my other crap in the Oldsmobile, when I bought these wheels.
"What the hell is this thing?" Knuckles asks.
"It's a portable PS2," I replied.
I notice that Knuckles' reaction is a lot like Sonic's; lots of confusion.
"Flip the red switch on top."
Knuckles finds the switch and flips it as Blaze looks on, and the red standby light turns on next to the PS2 power button.
"Is that it?"
"No, there's a silver switch on the right side: flip it."
Knuckles flips the toggle and three white light emitting diodes light under the screen, just like they did for Sonic.
"Now ya wanna play a game or watch a DVD?"
"What movies ya got?" Blaze asks.
"Well, I've got Law and Order Special Victims Unit, and the Simpsons Movie."
"How 'bout Law and Order."
"Couldjya give me some light?" Knuckles asks.
I turn the dashboard dimmer past full brightness to turn on the dome light.
"Get the second screen out while you're in there," I said.
Knuckles digs out another controller screen with its own battery, PS2 controls, and AV cable, then the Law and Order box.
"Stick that plug into the jack on the left," I tell Knuckles, which he does, then hands it to Blaze, who flips the toggle on the right side as I turn off the dome light. Knuckles also brought out the headphones and splitter.
"Top jack."
Knuckles plugs the splitter into that jack, then the two pairs of headphones, then takes out a Law and Order SVU DVD from the case.
"Flip the screen up."
Knuckles does, then replaces Rock Band with the DVD, putting the Rock Band disk where the DVD was.
"Push the red light."
Knuckles does, then the light turns green and the PS2 startup animation comes on, then the DVD plays.
"Volume is on the bottom."
By my estimates, I believe I now have about five hours of relatively uninterrupted night driving as Knuckles and Blaze eat their now cold Arby's sandwiches and watch Benson, Stabler, Munch, and Fin solve some sex crimes. I reach into the bag and get myself a sandwich as well. It's gonna be a long drive.
2,448 words of more setup and Blaze's smart mouth. I personally don't think she's so shy anymore. Again, there's a button at the bottom that reads: "review this story/chapter". Is it that hard to click?