Chapter 38: Clash, Part 1
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON:
"Hello, daddy/Hello, mom! I'm your ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb! Hello world/I'm your wild girl! I'm your ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb! Cherry bomb! Cherry bomb! Cherry bomb! Cherry bomb! Cherry bomb!"
There was a loud and raucous applause from the audience as Pizzazz leaned in and bowed.
"Well, it's been a blast playing- but we've got to go back to sunny LA. See you around, Emerald City!"
LATER:
"Great. Of all the times we had to run out fuel, it had to be now." Pizzazz grumbled as the Misfits' tour van pulled up to a gas station.
"Well, we've got another- I don't know, 16 and a half hours back to Los Angeles. While we're here, we might as well stock up on supplies." Stormer added.
"You and Brit-brat go get whatever. I'll pump the gas, and Roxy can catch up on her sleep."
"Welcome to Ripley's Fuel, Repair, and Refreshments. I'm Constance-"
Stormer looked up at the night clerk.
"Oh my God! You're the Misfits!" the clerk squealed.
"So what? We're not hiring." Jetta retorted.
"C'mon, let me go with you! Please please please!"
"You've got a job-" Stormer began.
"Actually, it's my last night. Apparently, Miss Ripley didn't quite appreciate what I was doing on my off-time…"
"Fine. You can go with us after we make our purchases." Stormer replied.
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER:
"You had one job, Stormer. And what do you bring back besides supplies? A groupie." Pizzazz muttered.
Stormer shrugged.
"Bloody 'ell! What's it with you Yanks an' soya? Don't you get enough of 'em without roastin' them like peanuts?" Jetta asked.
Roxy was silent as the van continued on its way back to Los Angeles.