Ok decided to do a Disney and destroy a good story with a crappy sequal. Well it isn't that crappy I hope not anyway. Thanks for the review greatly appreciated. Thanks to zeilfanaat for being a great beta reader.

I figured that this story had 2, well 6 sides to it, so I decided that the boys would get their say on how their driving was.

Jeff had gone to the mainland and the boys, as they usually do when Jeff was off the island, decided to snoop through his office.

"Virgil, have you found it?" hissed Scott who was keeping an eye on the door, in case anyone would walk in and find them going through their father's stuff.

"Yes I found it, but for the sake of annoying you Scott I decided to keep looking."

Scott shot him a deadly look.

"Hey Scotty. I think dad's writing a book." Scott came closer. "Hey, it's about us. He says we're bad drivers."

After around 30 minutes the boys had a plan of action. They were going to write their side of the story.

Scott a.k.a. Mr. Crazy

I'm not crazy behind a wheel. Forget everything that man told you. It's a pack of lies. It is, honestly! OK, so he taught me to drive at age 16. I was desperate to learn, for the maturity of being a pre-adult. So Dad decided he would teach me how to drive. I still don't know why. He got so stressed out over little things like the car slowly going round a corner. Well, 30 mph is slow. He never gave up with his lecturing.

'Now Scott, I expect you to be a safe, well-balanced driver, blah blah blah.'

It went on for hours, and I mean hours. He always insists on telling everyone at parties or when he is drunk, about this time when I pushed his head down to hide him during a lesson. It never happened. My rear view mirror was slightly wonky so I bent over to sort it. It just so happened, that Mel Walker was standing there at that precise moment. I can tell you, she was a senior in our school and totally into me because I could drive. Well not quite. I had the aging geriatric in the car beside me, but hey, she was into me.

So anyway, I passed my test first time. Totally capable of driving. I can still drive well. Oh man, he wrote down that I failed my test in England 4 times. Well, the roads over there are scary and bendy and they have these roundabout thingies and all these extra rules. Why on earth did I decide to sit my test there? Oh yeah, I was sick of the taxi's and buses. They smoke dope on buses there! Weird, I know. Anyway, I am a good driver compared to what my father says

About John, Mr. Road-rage. So true! The man is insane! Now I know why dad parks his sorry ass in Thunderbird 5 all the time. I remember this one time when Johnny had the good old task of picking me up from the airport. He almost got arrested for arguing with a police officer. I wouldn't have minded but I was desperate to get home and some of grandma's cooking. Not being hauled off to prison because John can't control his temper!

Virgil on the other hand…well, all my father says here is true. Except that Virgil is a good driver. He isn't, he dreams all the time. His insurance for the car is sky high 'cause (either use "because" or " 'cause" of the few major incidents he happened to have over the years.

I assume our dear old father doesn't know about those. I refuse to get in a car with Virgil behind the wheel 'cause of his dreamy state. Ha! Dad thinks Virgil is a stoner. Ha Ha.

Gordon I guess is next on the list. Wait a minute, Gordon can drive? I never knew that! Hey, he was always scamming lifts off me and my brothers. Man, I always thought he got sailing lessons instead of driving. Wait, he got them both?! Spoilt little brat. Ah, well, I don't have anything else to say about Gordon. How could I not know that he could drive?

Next on my list is Speedy Gonzales himself. Alan the Speeder-Tracy. Man, he drives fast. Really fast. I remember him winning the championship at Parola sans. It was amazing! He kept cool the whole time. I was totally amazed. Mind you, my father doesn't know about the time where I had Alan crying down the phone for me to pick him up when he was caught speeding and racing. Yes, I, dad Junior, as he christens me.

Alan called me on that evening and begged and pleaded to pick him up. I struck a deal with the police officer and Alan got off Scott free. Ha ha pardon the pun.

Man my brothers really cannot drive! I'm the only one who can safely drive!!