Ok major thanks for the review so far didn't really expect them but what a lovely thing to find on my inbox. I won't say a no to anymore. Usual disclaimer I own nothing denada. Big thanks to the special sailing lack of time and always wanting to sleep zailfaniat. (I hope I spelt it right if not you can kill me later.) Thanks again and I promise well actually I don't but I hope to have all pov's done by Christmas.

Virgil the dreamer

Me? A dreamer? Honestly, the man knows me too well. Ok, so I used to go into a world of my own. For example, I'd see duck and think of flying or something like that. But he is exaggerating when he's saying that he used to have to grab the wheel all the time. I only did 'it' once whilst in the car with him, 'cause normally I fight the urge to go into "my world". But 'it' won the battle that day! I had the flu and, well, we ended up in a field. However, I will deny, to this very day, that I smoke weed. Even though Father and the rest of them think I do smoke that…stuff, I never did! Well, I did it once in college, but hey, I'm an artist. Anyway, back to this particular day. The field incident. Grandma had made sure I was high on cough syrup before leaving the house, hence the reason we ended up in the field. I went light headed, the dream took over and 'bada bing bada boom' we were in a field.

Ok, I think my Father has finally lost the plot. I mean, out of 5 he picks me as the best driver! Ok, I feel a little proud about that, 'cause I never wanted to learn, but he begged and pleaded, and I just gave in eventually. But hey, it was better than taking the bus.

I always preferred playing with the stuff under the bonnet, especially on my first car, with the 6th gear added… oh, that baby ran!

Scott, I guess, always was a good driver. I couldn't really comment until I was 16 and by then he had moved out and was living on his own in England. Hey, I never knew that he failed his test 4 times in the UK!

John… Dear Lord, never get in a car with him! If you think roller coasters are scary with the screaming and everything, this is a thousand times worse! I mean, John is quiet, never swears, but inside a car… hold on for dear life and put socks in your ears if you're offended easily. He doesn't care for what other drivers think, they are wrong. This just isn't the John we all know and love. This is the evil clone of him. I would rather be driven by Alan than John. Now that is saying something.

I guess, since these stories are going by age, Gordon is the next. Now, my older brothers keep asking me if Gordon can really drive. They honestly didn't know that he could. I always knew. I guess we are closer compared to the older brothers. Gordon has no confidence in driving. He hates it and hardly ever drives alone. I think in his whole life he has only owned one car. When he was in WASP I accidentally wrote it off. Even before I crashed it, it didn't have very much mileage, but boy, it could drive! I remember the long conversations we used to have when he was learning how to drive, about that he wanted to quit. I got a phone call about once a week from him. A wreck would be telling me that 'he was going to put his foot down and tell father that he wasn't going to drive anymore.' Like that ever happened! I mean, once in a while I can cope, but once a week… So I gave him the old speech about how dad wanted to spend time with us before we grew up. And I told dad…

Gordon, as we all know, is the joker of the family. Like when I got my first car. My baby: a Ford Thunderbird, and boy, did she purr! Well, she was this horrid blue colour when I got her and I decided she needed a paint job. Turquoise green, which is my favourite colour, was the way she was to be painted. I kindly asked Gordon to pick up the paint from the store and, if he wished, he could start painting her as I was running late. I got home and… she was pink! Pink!! I know he hated driving, but did he have to paint my baby pink to get back at me for telling dad?? I mean, PINK! Let me tell you, I always keep an eye on him whenever he goes near my Thunderbird.

Next and final on the list is Alan. Mr. Speeder. Even he has to agree with that nick name. My Lord, I have never seen anyone drive so fast, except maybe Scott. Speed limit? What speed limit? Obviously he has never heard of it.

Alan must have written off hundreds of cars. Especially my cars. He wrote off my Thunderbird, which I wasn't too happy about, and my Ford Focus. No wonder I can't get decent insurance!

"Virgil, can I borrow your car please? Please? I'll take good care of it, I promise!"

This was what I received every Saturday night when I was in Russia for 3 months. Time is different there and most of the time I was asleep and said yes. Silly old me.

He always claims that we can read him like a book. Boy, that is a big fat lie! He crashed two of my cars and no one but me knows! Alan never has any money as he is too busy paying me back.

OK, strangely enough, I think I am starting to agree with dad. None of us can drive.