Title Not-so-Normal Everyday
Characters male OC
Summary John Mclane is a normal everyday guy.
Warning Human cursing.
Author's Note While it could possibly fit into normal G1, (in my head, at least) this can be read (and was written) as one situation that might have happened after Sunny and Sideswipe parted ways in Vaeru's Juxtaposition. This is why there is no recognition that an Autobot's involved, and why certain mechs are alone, dirty and recharging in a parking lot. If you're not familiar with Juxtaposition, please... go dedicate this afternoon with doing something about that. You can find it amidst my favorites.
John Mclane drove an everyday normal POS car. He went to work at an everyday normal crappy job. Went home to an everyday normal bitchy wife. Had everyday normal little bratty children. Everyday normal house, and everyday normal pets.
John Mclane was an everyday normal guy.
Every day passed by like the one before. Monotony made his life, and with a sigh he pulled into the parking lot that held every other car within the downtown area. He passed dingy car after dingy car, and parked next to the only nice car in the lot, one of the brand new hybrids. Out of his price range.
Yellow filled his windshield.
Shining gold.
He stared, shocked to see a fucking Lamborghini in a run-down part of town like this. (a slightly beaten down and little worse for the wearLamborghini, but a Lamborghini nonetheless)
The car rolled forward and too late he realized he needed to hit the brakes.
"Aw, fuck!" John backed up and shoved his car into park, cutting the ignition and yanking the keys out with a vicious jerk. He got out of his car, whipping about his car to see the paint scraped off the dirty bodywork. Dirty or not someone was bound to notice.
There was no way his insurance would cover anything this guy would demand. Shit… Even if the car wasn't in the best shape, the guy certainly had damned lawyers out the wazoo that would chew John up and spit out the pieces.
John tugged at his necktie, glancing about the parking lot and adjacent streets nervously to see if anyone had noticed his incident. A car roared by, screeching around the corner and making him nearly piss his pants.
His heart hammering in his chest he sought out the one thing he kept on himself for the paperwork he dragged between home and work. Nervous fingers brought out the oblong object and pulled off a cap.
He crouched down, and diligently began applying the yellow highlighter to the scraped bumper. He swiftly inspected his work and stood, legs weak with anxiety. John grabbed up his suitcase and shut the open driver door to his car and hastened away from the Lamborghini.
All he wanted to do was forget it'd ever happened.
John Mclane rounded the corner, another normal everyday finished. He wanted only to go home and vegetate in front of the television with a beer in hand now. He wanted only to….
Where the hell was his car?
Oh fuck no…
That couldn't be it, could it? The briefcase fell from his fingers as his jaw went slack. Words escaped him, jumbled together in a cacophony of curses that locked themselves in his throat and only came out in a small whimpering 'ah?'
The remains of what used to be his car lay in a mangled mess of twisted metal. Like someone had dropped something on it, and then used it in some sort of hackysack game leaving yellow streaks over the crumpled edges.
How the hell….
"Motherfucking sonnuvabitch…" What the hell was he going to tell his wife?