Summary: A fun collection of short stories from the childhood of Kurt and Markie Wylde. Mostly fluff, but really fun to write. Please enjoy, and feel free to review!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Hot Wheels ideas or characters.
Chapter 2: Kurt Gets His License
One sunny spring afternoon, Kurt was riding home on his bicycle as fast as his legs could pedal him. Once there, he ran inside and called for his parents.
"Mom! Dad! Come here, I've gotta show you something!"
"They aren't here, Kurt," Markie's voice came from the kitchen. Kurt quickly joined his brother.
"Where are they?" he asked.
"They went grocery shopping," Markie replied, putting the last of the pickles on the sandwich he was making. "We need more pickles."
Kurt turned up his nose. "You and your pickles," he said in disgust. "Well, if they aren't here, I guess I'll just have to tell you first." He removed a small object from his pocket and thrust it under his brother's nose just as Markie was preparing to bite into his sandwich. Markie's eyes widened as he stared at the little card Kurt held out to him.
"It's my driver's license!" Kurt explained enthusiastically. "Since yesterday was my birthday, and I didn't want to wait for Mom or Dad to take me to the DMV, I just rode over there and got it myself!"
"Lucky!" Markie groaned. "I wish I could drive."
"It's only five years, Markie, it'll go by before you know it," Kurt told him, then added suddenly, "Hey, I've got an idea! Since Mom and Dad are both out, why don't you let me take you for a ride?"
"In what, the Jaguar?"
Kurt nodded. "Sure, I don't see why not."
"I don't know," Markie sighed, glancing down wistfully at his still uneaten peanut butter and pickle sandwich.
"C'mon," Kurt urged him, "it'll be fun. You can be the first person to ride as a passenger with Kurt Wylde at the wheel!"
"Oh, goody," Markie muttered, then thought a moment. "Okay," he said at last, "I'll go. But I'm taking my sandwich with me!"
"Fine, just don't get any peanut butter on the leather seats!"
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A short while later, the two brothers sat in the Jaguar sedan in an empty church parking lot.
"Uh, Kurt?" Markie asked nervously. "What are we doing here? I thought you were gonna take me for a drive, like, on the road."
"You'll see," Kurt replied simply.
With that, he stepped on the gas and sped toward the opposite end of the parking lot. But about halfway there, he slammed on the brakes and made a sharp right turn that resulted in a full 360.
"Whoa, Kurt!" Markie exclaimed, his knuckles white from clutching the door handle. "I'm not sure our car's supposed to do stuff like this."
"Don't worry, Markie," Kurt assured him with a wide grin. "I've got everything under control. Just don't throw up that disgusting sandwich all over the upholstery."
As he finished speaking, he again accelerated toward the far end of the lot, fishtailing a bit along the way. And just as they were about to drive up onto the grass, Kurt hit the brakes and jerked the car left, causing the rear end of the vehicle to swing around and park perfectly alongside the curb.
"There," Kurt sighed happily. "Wasn't that fun, Markie?"
Wide-eyed, Markie gaped at his brother for a moment, unable to speak. When he had finally pried his fingers free from the door handle and recovered his voice, he exclaimed, "When I learn to drive, I'm gonna drive just like you!"
Kurt just laughed and ruffled his brother's hair in reply.
"But seriously," Markie went on, "where did you learn to do all that?"
Kurt shrugged. "Practice, I guess. But honestly, it all comes to me pretty naturally, too. I think I could make a living driving someday." He then looked down at the clock and exclaimed, "Hey, we'd better get home! Mom and Dad are probably back by now."
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When they got home, however, they saw that their parents still had not returned. They therefore decided to check the car over for any damage, and unfortunately, they found some. The rubber had started peeling off of the tires, and there was a long scratch near the end of the automobile.
"I have no idea where that scratch could have come from," Kurt commented, puzzled.
"Oh, I knew that car wasn't meant to do those kind of tricks!" Markie lamented. "Mom and Dad are definitely not going to be happy about this."
"Mom and Dad aren't going to find out," Kurt interjected firmly.
"Oh, really?" Markie replied. "And how exactly are you going to keep them from seeing this?" He gestured toward the painfully obvious scratch on the Jaguar's black paint.
Kurt opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment, their parents drove up in the family mini-van.
"If you say one word, I'll kill you!" Kurt hissed at his brother as their parents approached.
"Hello, boys!" Mrs. Wylde called, her arms full of groceries. "What's new?" Suddenly, she saw the Jaguar and gasped. "What happened to our beautiful car?" she shrieked.
Kurt and Markie exchanged worried looks but remained silent.
"Markie," Mrs. Wylde said, turning to her younger son, "aren't you going to tell your mother what happened?"
Kurt glared down at his brother.
"I can't tell you," Markie replied with an anxious glance up at Kurt.
"And why not?" his mother asked, her patience wearing thin.
"Because Kurt'll kill me if I do!"
"Thanks a lot, Markie!" Kurt snapped, but he was then forced to tell the whole story. His parents were proud of him for getting his license, but they told him he wouldn't be able to use it again for a whole week.