Disclaimer:- Anything that's copyrighted in this story is not owned by me.

Joe: I know, this took much longer than usual, but I've been getting less and less time on the computer. And, more and more requests have been coming in. If your idea wasn't used, don't worry, I might get round to it at some point or other. Even though this isn't a request, but a concept that I had thought up myself. HA! MY brain does still work! TAKE THAT AND SHOVE IT, DR. CAFFREY!

And, yes, I, know, most of you probably aren't reading this, and those of you who are want me to shut up and get on with it…so here we go.


Ch.7 : Big Al's Disaster Vehicles

The amount of money has improved lately, from the suing and the selling of the crazy old lady's house. After the half hour being hung from the ceiling.

Though, the improvement was minimal, and Trish had even deposited the money in a bank, otherwise, Dante would have gone on impulse and drowned himself with beer kegs. Dante had managed to steal some away and put it in a different bank account, because he knew that Trish was hardly better, and would take some out when she seen some new clothes, shoes, accessories or anything.

The result of this saving led to more money being needed outside of the bank, bills needed to be paid and food had to be bought.

Dante hadn't even bothered to look in the newspaper, he just let Trish loose with her pen and let her put a big fat "10" beside every job listed. He didn't want to go through the trouble of bothering to ask her. He knew that he was accident prone and unlucky. Accident prone wasn't the right way to put it, actually. More like, wrecking ball. That was the way it seemed to anyone who looked at the damage that Dante had caused passing by. He had managed to destroy $10,000 worth of silverware, most of his shop, and a whole segment of the opera.

Trish jumped.

"2!" she squeaked with excitement.

Dante's jaw dropped.

"Gimme!" he rasped, motioning for Trish to give him the paper.

She threw it at him hastily in her excitement. Dante fumbled with it and accidentally knocked it into the air. Out the window. Carried into the wind and out of sight.

Dante's jaw dropped lower. Not in excitement, though. In pure and utter anguish and in horror.

He turned sharply towards Trish with a glare on his face. She grinned nervously (and in fear, Dante's face could have stopped a charging bull at that moment,) at him and gave a weak chuckle.

There was silence for a few seconds.

She joined the paper out of the window.

After slamming and locking the window, Dante huffed and sat down on the couch and flicked on the T.V, trying to clear his mental suffering, ignoring the sounds of protest coming from outside.

"Welcome to the news…"

Not now.

"WHY, YOU COTTON PICKIN' LITTLE!"

Seen it.

"And it's a goal to Ireland!"

Replay.

"The Alconius Liderdali gets it's supplement from it's own excretion…"

That's just gross…and boring. Next.

"Come to Big Al's discount vehicles…"

Commercial.

"And, it's Schumacher in first"

What was that last one?

"Just look at this Honda, for example! Look at the sleek design! Perfect condition and used! Also, looking for a job? We got plenty of space here, at Big Al's discount vehicles!"

Dante stood up suddenly, a determined expression plastered to his face. This was a sign. Or coincidence. Or, just pure dumb luck. But, "sign" sounded better and more convincing, so a sign it was.

He opened the front door. As soon as Trish noticed the portal back inside open, Dante threw her coat at her.

"We're going."

Trish opened her mouth to protest, but Dante had already gone in the opposite direction. She gave off a heavy sigh and jogged to keep up.


The big garage came into sight. Dante quickened his pace. Trish grabbed on to him.

"Back at home-" she began.

"It's all right, I forgive you."

Yet another mouth hit the ground.

"You forgive me?-" she started.

Dante had already stepped inside. Trish sighed again. He had to stop doing that.

Big Al, Dante had found out, was rather modestly named. He wasn't big. He was huge.

Before, Dante had never believed the legends of Bigfoot. Now, Dante had realised that Bigfoot had discovered McDonalds, gorged himself then had started his own garage for used cars. And taken the name "Big Al" to be his new name. All he had to do was swap the "Foot" with "Al". He hadn't discovered deodorants yet, though. Or the razor and scissors. Or the friggin' shower…

He had also, apparently, gone bald, replacing the hair on his head with even more bodily hair that stuck out of his sleeves. And he had somehow managed to shrink to half of the size that Dante was.

And had developed a ridiculous strong Texan accent, starting sentences with things like "Well, HOWDYDOO!" or "Well, I'll be a gopher slappin', yodel trappin' buffalo!"

As some of us know, this isn't a Texan accent. One could be incorrect be calling it an accent at all. It wasn't very far from being a new language altogether. The closest thing it was to was a drunken take on a monkeys version of the Texan accent. Also, buffalos didn't slap gophers. Nor did they trap yodellers.

This is the information a person gathers when meeting Big Al for the first time.

As the past paragraph explained, Big Al was an extremely obese man, barely reaching the 5 foot mark. He wore a giant cowboy hat that was close to the point of being novelty. His bodily hair could be described as "foresty" which isn't a word, but the only way that you could describe it.

He also had very large canal boats as feet, which is why Dante got the impression of "Bigfoot" off him.

Big Al had taking a liking to "these here strangers-folk" immediately, and had hired them. His body hair, Dante had discovered, had a man growing out of it. The hair wasn't coming out of the man, there was too much hair and too little person for that.

He had assigned the two on different jobs. He had developed names for them as well. Dante was "redser" and Trish was "sweet cheeks".

Neither of them were very happy with their names, Trish most of all.

Dante was assigned to the bargaining, as he had grown a sixth sense on how to get money in. Trish was assigned as "eye candy", to attract more customers, as Big Al seemed to have taken a fancy to her. He had even given an outfit for her to wear, which she had refused point blank to put on. Even she had limits, as slutty as she normally dressed.

Soon enough, customers came, looking interestedly at the discount used cars around the place.

Big Al nudged Dante.

"There be's some customers, Redser! Time te' reel in the deal!" he whispered in his thick accent.

It took a few seconds for Dante to register what Al had just said, and nodded when he did. Al waddled swiftly over to the customers to introduce them. Dante was impressed, something so obese and tiny could move very fast when it wanted to.

"Well, HOWDYDOO!" Al exclaimed very, very loudly.

Dante could've sworn that the people made a record in jumping, their heads almost scraping the ceiling. Dante knew how they felt. The Devil May Cry was almost decorated with imprints of his head on the roof. They turned timidly to Al and put on smiles and shook their perfectly normal human hands with his bear like ones.

The customers were an old enough family. The parents were either in their late forties or early fifties, their daughter looked about 15, and their son…

Dante turned swiftly around, his demon senses had warned him that something wrong was going on. The parents looked embarrassed and the daughter clicked her tongue in annoyance.

The son was following Trish about, begging her to give him her number. Dante suppressed a chuckle. The son was around 17, and, by the look of it, fancied Trish. Dante had a feeling that the son wouldn't have even bothered leaving the car they had if it weren't for Trish.

The father stormed over to the son, then they had a heated argument for a while. Eventually, the son submitted to his fathers lecture, and shuffled lazily after his father back to Al.

Al showed them around for a while, telling them about "the perfect condishun of this here contraption," and suchlike.

After what seemed like ages, the family had finally found a car that they liked. Al nudged Dante.

The family turned to face him. Dante scratched the back of his head nervously, wishing that he had chosen a different job.

Knock 'em dead!" Al whispered.

As he said this, Al had attempted to elbow Dante, but had ended up belting him in the stomach.

Dante got winded, disabling him from breathing properly. He made strange noises, and he tried to start bargaining with the people.

"Th-this……cahahahar…is in peferct…I mean, perfect…" he coughed up, then realising that he was unable to finish the sentence.

Big Al didn't notice that he had done anything wrong, and that Dante easily got nervous. The family looked appalled, and the son burst out laughing. Dante glared at him. The punk thought that his pain was funny! He would pay!

Then Dante noticed the amulet around the punks neck. He stared interestedly at it.

Big Al noticed it as well.

"What's that there doohicky?" he enquired.

"oh, that?" the mother coughed. She looked pretty embarrassed.

"My clan icon," the son stated.

Dante blinked.

The dad sighed.

"He's part of a gang. A gang with many rivals. They all have their own icon, funny story…" he said, then trailed off into some boring verse.

Dante didn't bother listening. There's more of them?

He got up and hurried to Trish's workstation, outside the door.

There, outside, was a pile of groaning teens on the floor, on each of their faces was a red hand mark. Dante's eyes followed the trail and they reached Trish smacking the last teen straight across the face. With a thud the punk fell. Trish stuck her nose into the air haughtily, looking highly offended.

Dante smirked. And to think, he was actually worried for Trish's sake…the punks didn't stand a chance!

Then he turned his attention to the front gates. There, was the bodies of just about every boy, teen or single man in the block. Maybe they should give her something else to do, it was far too dangerous to place her in view of the nearby perverts…

He clasped on to her arm and dragged her inside. This had to stop, before someone got seriously hurt.

The family had already bought the car and had left. Al turned to them and decided that they weren't suitable for the jobs they were given. Or, in his words, "they h'ent no good at them there jobs th'aht they were doin'"

He gave Dante the job of "test-driver", he had to take the buyer around the block in the car that they were thinking of buying, to affirm the quality.

This would have worked perfectly well, but as we all know, Dante has an uncanny ability to mess things up, especially where money is involved.

Trish was given a job as Al's secretary. Little did she know that this was because Al liked her, really liked her.

Soon enough, more customers arrived, taking a look around.

Again and again, Al's "HOWDYDOO!" echoed through the distance to make Dante jump again and again, banging his head against the roof. He was almost used to it by now.

A man came up to Dante with Al, saying that he was thinking of buying a car. Al made him take the man for a drive around the block with the man, as was his job.

Dante got in the car and sped off. Al turned his attention to the door leading to his office, where Trish was currently working.


The trip was uneventful for the first few minutes, the man looking happily at the space in the car and it's contents. That's when Dante realised Al's big plan. These cars were in terrible condition, merely made to look good. It didn't him long to figure that out, because the speedometer was merely painted on, and the steering wheel was made of Styrofoam. The engine made strange noises now and then, and the mirror was cracked. Al had obviously taken cars from the junkyard and had spruced them up a bit.

Dante started sweating again. This job was going to be harder than he thought.

The man noticed Dante's sudden apprehension and stared.

Dante ignored him, then felt his pupils narrow. There was a sharp turn up ahead. He didn't know if the car could manage it.

Surely enough, when the car had gone halfway through the turn, and when it seemed like it would make it, the steering messed up. The wheels jerked to the side, sending them right into the kerb. Several pedestrians shrieked and leaped out of the way, howling curses.

"DAMN IT!" Dante bellowed as they crashed through the barrier blocking them from the construction works being carried out on a new building.

The man in the passenger seat screamed and bounded out of the car for safety.

Dante gritted his teeth. He tried pulling on the brakes, but the lever simply snapped like a twig when Dante reached for it.

Dante yelled as the car zoomed up a pile of dug up dirt, sending it flying into the air. Dante's yelling became more desperate as he soared upwards. The car landed with a thump as it landed on one of the steel girders on the building under construction. Dante fiddled with the wheel, trying to find some way to keep on the track. He narrowly avoided falling off the building frame when he turned onto another girder at the corner. The car turned onto it's two side wheels, it's other two turning uselessly in the air.

His screaming continued as he sped around the steel girders helplessly, barely managing to avoid falling off to certain firing from his boss. Then, the worst occurred. A cat was asleep on the girder. Dante's eyes widened.

"GET THE FRIGGIN' CAT OFF THE GIRDER!" he howled.

Two builders having their lunch turned grumpily to face him. Their expressions of anger turned to those of fear as they dived out of the way of a speeding car. The cat didn't budge.

"GET IT OFF!" Dante requested loudly.

The nearby builders were too busy escaping to pay him any attention.

The cat yawned audibly as it slowly turned it's head groggily towards the direction of all the noise. The noise it made then sounded almost like that of a human groan. It was on it's seventh life already. It had previously died from trucks, low flying airplanes, vans, jeeps, and now, a car was added to the list.

There was a loud "RAOR!" as the cat was crushed under the tremendous weight of the speeding Volkswagen.

Then, the car soared once again through the air, due to the fact that the cat had somehow acted as a ramp.

Dante's screams filled the air once again as he landed with another "thump" on the ground.

There was a strange noise erupting from the tires. Apparently, the rubber had worn off some of them, and the bottom left one had come off. He could no longer control the car.

The car swivelled in dangerous curves for a while, forcing countless other vehicles off the road, the yells of protest radiating from the turning cars and trucks as they veered off course.

Then, The car turned into an industrial estate, filled with warehouses for various shops and factories.

Dante's loud screams had turned into a loud groan. This, would be annoying.

Then, to his relief, Fred's Pillow Emporium loomed ever closer. He sighed. Things were changing for the better. Just a little bit closer and it would all be over, the car would speed into a pile of pillows, making it stop, and letting Dante get out safely, and in comfort.

Then, when the inviting open door was just there, the car swerved again, turning away from the safety of the pillow store, and then, to his horror, the car crashed through the front entrance of Li'l Prickly Cacti Greenhouse: Every Kind of Cactus Imaginable Inside!

Dante burst into tears when the car throttled at full speed through the greenhouse of nightmares.

This was definitely not his day.

Once again, Dante's screams filled the air as the needles and pins jabbed him from every angle, some poisonous ones getting him in places that he didn't like to think about.

Then, once Dante had escaped from the greenhouse, he groaned again, this time a hint of anguish in it.

Bobby's Attack Dog Training Centre was the next building that the car smashed into.

Dante's throat was becoming unbelievably sore from screaming, as was just about every other part of him as savage dogs snapped at him from every angle.

He was almost delirious when the car smashed through Booby Trap Inc.: Protecting Your House One Step Further Than Alarms!

Let's just say that this continued for quite a bit longer, Dante getting seriously injured. Then, after about 7 more warehouses, the car veered off course again, just as it was about to go through Poppa's Entertainments, Friendly Company, Treats and Alcohol, then turning back onto the main road towards Big Al's Discount Vehicles.


Trish was extremely pissed off. For the past half hour, Big Al had bugged her, made crude jokes that she was forced to laugh at, and she had to put up with him almost slobbering over her. She bet that Dante was having a much better time driving around…

She even had to put up with some stupid lawyers saying that Al's cars were death traps and that they were going to shut him down…as if! Probably just some pranksters.

Then, Al had done the stupidest thing possible. He had given Trish a slap to the behind.

Just as Dante swerved right through the front of the garage, Trish had hurled Al right through the wall, and, right into the path of the car.

Dante was knocked right out of his seat as the car struggled to go over the obese mountain known as Al. Eventually, it succeeded.

Dante wasn't much better off. He proceeded to smash right into the wall, adding a fractured skull to his extended list of injuries.


"I know, don't even bother saying anything," Dante stated.

He was sitting in Harrington's office again. Harrington was giving him one of those "you're in trouble" looks that angry teachers normally give.

Harrington even had his mouth opened, but then closed it after Dante had finished his sentence.

Dante got up and was about to leave the office when Harrington opened it again.

"I was going to say that you were extremely lucky."

Dante turned slowly around, a bemused expression on his face.

"Er…Big Al, as he calls himself, seemed very nervous that you would leak some information about him or something…so he didn't sue you. He even paid the companies who's buildings you smashed up. He also gave you this…"

Harrington handed Dante an envelope. Inside was a wad of cash with a note on it.

Redser,

Thanks for not telling' them there stiffs about the car. Also, tell Sweet Cheeks thanks for not suin' cos' o' dat fun I had with her in the office.

Big Al.

Dante raised an eyebrow. He had completely forgotten! After all of those people who had already sued him, he had forgotten that it was possible for him to sue others…and he supposed that Trish had already got her revenge for what he done in the office, after all, she had hurled him through a wall, hadn't she?

Anyway, he was up a good bit of cash, this would do him for a while…


That was a bit slow, sorry. It's hard to come up with good ideas, as you can see. I blame writers block, as usual. And, there's a lot of reviews that I haven't replied to lately, please forgive me.

Oh, can you do me a favour? Gromit's new chapter is coming out. It's the new chapter for DEVIL MAY GROW UP AT SOMEPOINT, DAMMIT! And I'd be grateful if you reviewed.

Ciao.