CHAPTER NINE:
MAJOR ANNOYANCE
"YOU!" a man shouted, startling both Mack and Vee. Sarge drove up to them, his eyes narrowed accusingly at Vee.
"Speed freak! Why aren't you rusting out in the impound lot where you belong?" he demanded of her.
Mack opened his mouth to intervene, but Vee cut him off.
"Well aren't you a charmer!" she purred, batting her eyes at the jeep. "Won't you join us for a drink? You must be exhausted from having to fight your way out from under all your female admirers just to get down here!"
Sarge had no answer to that. He simply stared at her.
"What's the matter?" Vee asked him. "Think tank hit empty?"
Some snickering nearby caused the jeep to blush.
"Damn, Mack! Your girl's on fire!" Ramone teased. Now it was Mack's turn to blush.
Sarge broke out of his stupor. "Don't think that cutesy little act of yours is going to save your back bumper!" he huffed. "You won't even have a back bumper to save when I get through with you!"
"Hey, don't you threaten her like that!" Mack growled.
"It's not a threat, it's a promise!" Sarge replied. "She's a speeder, and she's got to face the consequences!"
"And what might that be?" Vee asked coolly.
Sarge pulled up to her until they were nearly nose to nose. "Boot camp."
Vee cocked an eyebrow. "Boot camp?"
"That's right. Twenty laps on an off-road course designed for SUVs. Think you can handle that, speeder?"
"With my eyes closed!" Vee retorted, taking a long sip from her drink.
"Vee, are you crazy?" Mack butted in. "You can't run that course without brakes! It's suicide!"
"Who said I was going to do it without brakes? Doc ordered new brake pads for me this morning and he said they'll be in by Friday. That's only three days away." She turned back to Sarge. "What's the record time for running the course?"
Sarge frowned. "All twenty laps? About thirty-eight minutes. Why?"
Vee grinned. "I'll do it in thirty-five minutes!"
"Ha! I'll kiss a hippie on the lips before that ever happens!"
"Don't be so sure, man," Fillmore drawled, pulling up behind him. "You're racking up some bad karma right now. It could happen."
Vee smirked at the bus' remark, but didn't take her eyes off Sarge. "I'll do it," she growled. "You'll see."
Sarge would have laughed again if it weren't for the seriousness of her tone. He matched it with a growl of his own. "Listen here, speedy, that record was set by a professional athlete! No one else ever even came close to matching it! The second best time was forty-two minutes! You actually think you stand a chance against a professional off-roading SUV?"
Vee narrowed her eyes. "I don't think. I know."
Sarged snorted. "Well, since you're so confident, why don't you put your money where your mouth is!"
"Okay," Vee agreed. "What do you want to bet?"
The jeep took a moment to think about it. "If you can run the entire course, twenty times, within thirty-five minutes - and not a second over - I'll let you have whatever you want from my surplus store."
Vee frowned. "Army surplus? No offense, Major Annoyance, but you couldn't pay me to take anything from your store."
Sarge growled. "Well then, what do you want?"
Vee thought about it. "Hmm, I think I waaannnt… to humiliate and demean you as much as possible. In other words, take you down a few notches. Now, how to do that? Hmmmm…" her eyes drifted past the jeep to the brightly-colored bus behind him. An evil smile spread across her face. "I believe you mentioned something about kissing a hippie on the lips…"
"WHAT?!"
Vee smiled even wider. "That's it then. A perfect bet! If I win, you have to kiss that hippie there, on the lips, in front of the entire town."
Mack stared at her in disbelief. Sarge paled at the suggestion, turning to flash Fillmore a hateful look, as if it were somehow his fault. "No way!" he growled. "There is no way in hell that is ever going to happen! Do you hear me? No way in hell! Forget it, no dice, guess again, keep dreaming, take a flying leap, and no freaking way!"
"What's the matter, Private Insecurity?" Vee said sweetly. "Afraid you'll lose the bet?"
Sarge glared daggers at her. "Of course not! The odds are completely in my favor! I'm only refusing that wager on the grounds that it's too utterly ridiculous to even consider calling it a wager! Come on, girl! Use your head! Give me a bet I can sink my teeth into!"
Vee's smug grin turned into a deadly frown. "Don't ever call me 'girl'," she growled, in a voice so low it sent shivers along Mack's chassis. "And just for that, my bet stands firm. Take it or leave it!"
Sarge growled to himself, frowning down at his hood. When he looked at her again, his eyes held nothing but pure loathing. "All right, fine!" he barked. "But what do I get if I win?"
"What do you want?" Vee asked coolly.
Sarge looked her over, considering his answer. "If I win," he said quietly, rolling closer to her until his fender was only an inch from her own. "If I win, I get to kiss you instead."
"WHAT?!" Vee and Mack shouted in unison. Sarge's bumper curled into a wicked smile.
"You heard me," he said smugly. "If you don't beat the course in exactly thirty-five minutes or less, you lose, and on top of losing, you have to kiss me. And I mean a real kiss."
Mack seethed. "Why you dirty — !"
"It's okay, Mack," Vee said firmly. "I take cheap shots from punks like him all the time. I can handle it." She smirked at the jeep. "If that's all it'll take to shut you up, maybe I should just kiss you right now and have done with it," she said smoothly. Mack gaped at her, but said nothing.
Sarge looked surprised by this statement as well, but he quickly shook it off. "Don't flatter yourself, sweetie pie. I won't be taking any pleasure from it," he growled. "I'm only making this bet so that when you lose, I can rub it in your face. And just for the record, I'd rather kiss a speeding train… and a hippie!" He backed up, taking in her half-mangled appearance, and sneered.
"In fact, I might have to use that as a mental image so I don't hurl my guts out when I'm kissing you!"
"That's it!" Mack exploded. "You apologize to her this instant or so help me Dodge I will crush you like a bug!"
Vee gasped. "Mack!"
Sarge stood his ground. "I will NOT take orders from a third-class freightliner, and I will NOT apologize to that banged up hussy!"
Mack let out a blood-curdling growl and charged the jeep. Vee jumped in front of him to stop him, but it was useless. The truck struck her in his attempt to get at Sarge. Vee skidded sideways, nearly tipping over. The entire crowd at Flo's, including Mack, gasped. The nearest cars backed away in alarm.
"Oh my Dodge!" Mack cried, reaching out a front tire toward his friend. "Vee! Are you all right? I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"
Stunned by the impact, Vee shook her hood and looked up at Mack. "Huh?" was all she managed to say. Engine racing, Mack looked her over for injuries, but if there were any, they could not be told apart from the rest of the scratches and dents that riddled her right side. He dropped his tire and backed away, looking thoroughly ashamed. He saw Sarge approach out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing. The jeep may have been a major annoyance, but Mack knew he could have - should have - ignored him as always.
The way Vee was looking at him just then made his oil run cold. It was not the look of loathing that he would have expected, but rather a concerned, questioning look. Everyone at Flo's was either staring at her or at Mack, the truck burning crimson with shame.
"Dodge Ram, Mack!" Sheriff said, pulling up beside him. "You can stop a speeder all right, but I didn't ask you to beat her up!"
Mack cast the patrol car a sideways glance, wondering whether that was some kind of weak attempt to make light of the situation. It only made him feel worse, though.
"It's okay, officer," Vee said. "It was an accident. I just got in the way, is all." Sheriff frowned, looking her over disapprovingly.
Sarge pulled forward, opening his mouth to speak, but one look from Mack shut him up immediately. As much as Mack blamed himself for striking his friend, he was still mad at Sarge for provoking him. He glared heatedly at the jeep, but a gentle touch to his hubcap drew his attention back to his friend. Vee gave him a pleading look before flashing Sarge an equally heated glare.
"Looks like I just saved your back bumper," she purred, keeping a firm tire on Mack's hubcap. "Next time I might not hold him back."
Sarge smirked, looking back and forth between the Chrysler and the big rig. "Oh, don't bother!" he replied haughtily. "At the rate he's going, you won't be in any kind of shape to run my course on Friday, and if you don't run the course, you won't be able to lose and I won't be able to claim my prize!"
"Don't you worry about that, General Incompetence. I'll be in good enough shape by then to break that record and rub it in your face! Although I think I'll enjoy rubbing that hippie in your face even more!"
Sarge sneered and grumbled something in response. Vee leaned in closer to hear him. "I'm sorry, what was that?" she said sweetly, though the look in her eyes was anything but sweet. Sarge opened his mouth to repeat himself but Fillmore was already nudging him.
"Remember your karma, man."
Sarge shut his mouth. "Oh, shut up," he growled, then with a loud "Humph!" turned his nose up at Vee and drove back to his spot across the way.
A/N: To all the Sarge fans out there (you know who you are) -- before you kill me, please wait and see what happens first!
