Cannonball Run 2003
Chapter Three:Ladies and Gentlemen, Start Your Engines
The morning after the party...
"Would you hurry the hell up!" said Mad Dog as Batman rolled over a tire. He had a good reason for his impatience: he and three other guys were holding up the front of the truck with their hands.
"I'm telling you, these black headlights are the shit." said Michael.
"Let's try 'em out." said Jackie as he sat in the Impreza and turned on the headlights. It looked like nothing happened.
"You see lights?" asked Jackie.
"Nope." smiled Michael.
"I do." smiled Jackie. The two M.I.T. students shared a laugh.
Mel took a twelve-pack of Jolt soda and opened it. He then handed the cans to Terry, who loaded them into a cooler in the backseat of the repaired Chevelle.
"We've got enough of this to keep us awake for a year." joked Mel.
"I know." said Terry. "But I'm a little more concerned about the car. Did we do a good repair job?"
Mel patted him on the shoulders and simply said "Don't doubt your skills, man."
"Alright." said Terry as he went back to loading the car with Jolt. "We got a lot of soda. What about food?"
Mel held up a ten-ounce bag of pretzels.
Terry grabbed the pretzels and tossed them into the car. "Very funny." he said. "Now give me the rest of that Jolt."
"I think we have to work on strategy." said Jill as she applied another decal to the MR2's "role call". The now jet black Toyota sported stickers along the side skirts displaying the names of companies with parts in the car. The car was affixed with a Kaminari body kit and silver Konig Blatant rims.
"What do you mean?" asked Marcie as she tightened the screws on the new steering wheel.
"This is the first race I've run where we'll have to make pit stops." said Jill. "I don't know if we can handle it."
"I've made some adjustments based on the nature of the race." said Marcie. "All we have to do is plot the right route and we're golden."
A few young women gathered around the Porsche as Blake sweet-talked them. Fenderbaum watched the scene taking place and walked over.
The ladies dispersed as Fenderbaum got there. "So, you've got groupies now." he said.
"Some people are impressed with us." said Blake. "It takes guts to run three thousand miles in thirty-six hours."
"Can you explain why they came to you?" asked Fenderbaum.
Blake gave him a look that said "I don't need to explain anything."
Elsewhere, the Drake was on his cell phone. "Great, I'm certain construction can begin within the month." he said. "I've personally met with several of the people who will be moving into the place when it's finished. Good. I'll be unavailable the next couple of days. I'll see if I can get back to you then."
He hung up his cell phone.
"Congratulations." said Susan. "I think you just set a record for the world's longest cell phone call."
"Hey, I wanted to do that." said Ron.
"I wanted to make sure there were no loose ends." said the Drake.
"Some are preparing by tuning up their cars." said Susan. "Some are stocking up on supplies. Some are plotting their routes. What is our fearless leader doing? Negotiating a business deal."
"Welcome to the Drake Express." said the Drake.
"Please keep your hands inside the car at all times." said Ron.
J.J. walked over to Victor. "Sorry about last night." he said. "What were you trying to tell me?"
"It's about the doc." said Victor.
"What about the doc?" asked J.J.
"He got sick." said Victor.
"Ah, dammit." said J.J.
"I know." said Victor. "It puts us in a bind."
"A bind?" said J.J. "This is a little more than a bind."
"I thought you wanted to be notified before I went to find a new doctor." said Victor.
"Good idea." said J.J. "Remember, the race starts at midnight."
That night, the race was ready to start. The Cannonballers gathered around and took in the commencement speech from the race organizer. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to welcome you to what's sometimes been refered to as an automotive counterpart to the Bay of Pigs." he said. The crowd laughed.
"I just want to say that you are easily the most distiguished group of highway scofflaws and degenerates ever gathered together in one place." More laughter. "Tonight, we commence the two-thousand and three running of the Cannonball Run, a three-thousand mile race over public interstates and highways. A race designed to show that good, skillful drivers can use the country's interstate system to traverse the country safely and quickly. The rules are simple: cars are to be driven from one side of the country to the other. The car with the shortest elapsed time between those two points is the winner.
"This action is still considered to be highly illegal. As you may be aware, as soon as we begin, thirty-thousand of the nation's most alert highway patrolmen will be out there waiting to stop you guys. But let's stay positive. Think of the fact that not one state of the fifty has the death penalty for speeding...although I'm not so sure about Ohio." The comment made the crowd laugh.
"Now, to keep track of your elapsed time, you will be given a card...like this." said the organizer as he held up a time card. "You punch in when you start here, and you punch out when you reach the Portofino Inn in Redondo Beach. The difference between those two times is your time across America. The record stands at thirty-two hours, fifty-one minutes, and believe it or not, those guys did break the then fifty-five mile-an-hour speed limit." The crowd let out a loud cheer.
"But I'm sure you didn't come here to listen to me talk. You came here to race. So let's get that first car up here and let's get this show on the road!"
The crowd parted as an engine's roar pierced the night. A pair of headlights appeared in the darkness and approached the starting line. Under the lights of the hotel's exit, the engine and headlights were revealed as belonging to Danny's Qvale Mangusta.
Melanie jumped out of the passenger seat and jammed a time card into the clock. "Go!" called the organizer. She jumped back into the Mangusta and the car sped off.
J.J. ran back to the ambulance. At that time, Victor came running over to him and yelled "J.J! J.J! I got the doc!"
"You got the doc?" asked J.J. "That's great!"
"He's in the ambulance." said Victor. He and J.J. ran over to the ambulance and Victor took the door handle to the sliding door.
"Now before I open this up, don't get your hopes up too high." said Victor.
He then opened the door, revealing a slightly inebriated man in a doctor's jacket.
"Holy shit." muttered J.J.
"I'm honored, sir!" said the doctor who extended his right hand for a handshake. "My name is Doctor..." he introduced before raising his hand up to his mouth to stiffle a cough, then extended his hand again "Nicholas Van Helsing, doctor of proctology and other related tendencies."
"Nice to meet you." said J.J. "So, what are your qualifications?"
"Well, I got my medical training at the University of Tennessee and various corespondence courses." said the doctor.
"Did you bring your equipment?" asked J.J.
"I did indeed bring all the necessary stuff." said the doctor. "Although in my line of work, I rarely need more than this." he added as he took out a hypodermic needle and sprayed J.J. with its contents.
"Or this." he added as he tapped J.J's cheek with his middle finger.
"I think you might be a little overqualified." said J.J.
"Thank you. Now before we go any further, there is the matter of my compensation." said the doctor. "Since this sporting event, which I understand will be taking us from sea to shining sea, will be taking me away from my practice, I will need compensation of about two thousand dollars."
J.J. balked at the ammount. "We were thinking more along the lines of two hundred dollars." he calmly informed.
"Fortunately, my practice allows me a little flexibility." said the doctor. "Okay, I'll get ready to go."
Victor made sure the doctor was safely tucked away before sliding the door shut. "Satisfied?" he asked. A slap on the arm was J.J's response.
The Drake slid his time card into the time clock until it clicked. "I will see you at the finish, my lovelies!" he told the women at the desk. He then ran back to his BMW and jumped in.
"Next stop, California." said Susan as the Drake slipped the BMW into gear and floored the accelerator. Unfortunately, he had it in reverse and barely missed the car behind him.
"Why did we just go backwards?" asked Ron as the Drake put the Bimmer back into drive and pushed the accelerator.
"Probably because I had it in the wrong gear. Hold on." said the Drake as he cautiously pushed the gas and raced out of the parking lot.
"Was that weird!" remarked the organizer.
"Any signs of trouble?" asked Blake as he and Fenderbaum looked over their car.
"It's a cinch!" said Fenderbaum as he looked around the parking lot. "The more I look around at these..." He stopped when he saw someone he somehow missed at the party the night before: J.J.
"While you're leering, Blake," he added "isn't that J.J. McClure over there?"
"He's nothing." said Blake. "What you really need to worry about is the blimp." he added as he pointed out Victor. "He has this alternate persona, a daredevil named Captain Chaos. When he puts on that mask and cape, he'll blow your god damned doors right off!"
"We may need to deal with him." said Fenderbaum.
"I'll do it." said Blake as he walked over to the ambulance.
Chuck Prescott started the race, blissfully unaware that Mr. Foyt and Pamela were sitting in a Honda Civic Hybrid taking down the cars' license plate numbers.
"Okay, hold still for a second." said Mr. Foyt as he aimed a digital camera at the Mustang's license plate. He then took a picture.
"Get it?" asked Pamela.
"Got the evidence." said Foyt. "Now we're well on our way to taking down the Cannonball."
Mel and Terry were the next team at the start. Mel jumped out of the car as it stopped at the entrance, punched the clock, and jumped back into the passenger seat.
"How long until we stop?" he asked.
"Eight hours!" said Terry.
"Aw, damn!" said Mel. "I gotta go to the john!"
The Chevelle raced down the driveway and out to the interstate.
Blake snuck over to the ambulance parked next to Jill and Marcie's MR2 and listened in on J.J. and Victor planning their route.
"I think we may have to risk taking Interstate 70 through Ohio." said Victor. "We can save a lot of time, but we'll be at higher risk of speeding tickets."
"Didn't you use Mapquest?" asked J.J.
"I think everyone was using Mapquest." said Victor. "I couldn't get in as it was so busy."
"Understood." said J.J.
"Do you need help, father?" asked Marcie as she saw Blake standing in front of their car.
"Oh no, I was just admiring your car." said Blake. "It's very nice, and cunningly disguised so that it won't look like a racing car. I tell you, I bet the cops won't give that a second glance."
"A hundred and seventy miles per hour and they're not gonna get a second glance." said Jill.
Team M.I.T. was next out of the gate. They pulled up to the starting line with their black headlights on.
"Hey, could you get that for me?" asked Michael as the official punched the time clock and handed him the card. "Thank you."
"It might be easier with your lights on." said the organizer.
"Why advertise?" asked Michael as the Subaru raced out of the lot.
"Well, couldn't you just..." asked Blake.
"Haven't you heard?" asked Marcie. "That's a no-no. It's forbidden by several parishes."
"I'm from a small parish out some ways." said Blake. "Very small."
"Goodbye." said Jill as she waved him off.
Mad Dog and Batman were next to start. Batman jumped out of the truck and punched their time card. He then ran back to the truck and jumped in.
Inside the truck, he turned to Mad Dog and said "Mad Dog, you are going to take the shortcut to the interstate, right?"
"We're in this to win, ain't we?" replied Mad Dog. "If you're gonna be a bear, BE A GRIZZLY!"
He and Batman growled at each other.
He threw the truck into gear and tore down the driveway. But instead of making the turn, he drove up a hill and smashed through a fence. Mr. Foyt and Pamela saw the whole thing.
"Did you see that?" asked a shocked Mr. Foyt.
"That can't be legal." said Pamela. "And what if there was someone on the other..."
"That's it. We are stopping this right here and now." said Foyt. "Buckle up, we are going into action."
Blake walked back to the Porsche to find Fenderbaum waiting. "They're going to take Interstate 70 through Ohio." he informed. "We'll get them there."
"Good, Blake." said Fenderbaum.
Blake grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him into the air. "Listen!" he demanded. "Next time, we're Methodists! Got that? Methodists!"
"Okay! Okay!" said Fenderbaum as Blake set him down.
"Okay, now get in the car and prepare to go." said Blake. Fenderbaum climbed into the Porsche and crawled into the passenger seat.
"Don't forget your hat." said Blake as he pointed to the black hat on the hood of the Porsche. Fenderbaum grabbed it as Blake climbed into the driver's seat.
Jill calmly eased the MR2 up to the starting line. The engine's growl was amplified by the new exhaust.
Marcie jumped out of the car, punched their card, got back into the car, and yelled "Hit it!" A chirp of tire squeal and a roar of engine later, they were off.
Blake and Fenderbaum were right behind them. Fenderbaum stepped out of the Porsche and walked over to the time clock.
"Greetings, ladies." he said as he took the time card and stuck it in the clock. "Bless you, ladies. Bless you. I hope the good lord takes a liking to you, but not too soon."
As Fenderbaum strolled back to the Porsche, the organizer laughed "This guy's more juiced up than that Porsche."
Fenderbaum let out a howl and the Porsche left the premises.
J.J. and Victor followed them. Victor steered the ambulance up to the starting line and J.J. got out. He ran over, punched the clock, and ran back to the ambulance.
Once inside, he told Victor "We're off."
On the interstate, Mad Dog merged with traffic.
"Crazy Connecticut Yankees." said Mad Dog. "They act like they never got cut off before."
"Don't any of them cross the New York state line?" asked Batman.
As they passed the exit they would have taken instead of the shortcut, Foyt pulled out after them.
"There they are." he said.
"What are you going to do?" asked Pamela.
"I'm taking him down." said Foyt.
"In a Civic?" asked Pamela.
Batman looked around the truck and glanced in the rearview mirror. "Uh, Mad Dog." he said. "I think we've got some unwanted attention."
Mad Dog checked the rearview. "Yeah, I think you're right." he said. "Although I can't quite picture the Connecticut State Police using a Civic Hybrid."
"At least they're environmentally concious." said Batman.
Foyt dialled his cell phone.
"Are you sure that's safe to do while you're driving?" asked Pamela.
Foyt put the phone to his ear. "Hello, Connecticut State Police?" he said. "Yes, I'd like to report a reckless driver."
Mad Dog tried weaving through traffic to lose Foyt, but came upon two cars driving alongside each other. "Man, I can't handle this traffic." he said.
He swerved onto the shoulder and passed the two cars. Unfortunately, he didn't see a stalled car until it was almost too late.
"Look out!" yelled Batman.
Mad Dog quickly cut back onto the road and one of the cars, a Volvo, spun out to avoid him.
"He is driving a white GMC pickup." said Foyt on his cell phone. He changed lanes to pass a car and ended up heading straight for the spun out Volvo. Pamela screamed.
Foyt got on the brakes, but it was too late. He plowed into the Volvo's front fender and coasted to a stop. He and Pamela ended up pushing the deflating airbags aside.
Mad Dog and Batman looked in their rearviews. "I hope we don't have to do that again." said Mad Dog.
The ambulance was on the road.
"Alright!" called J.J. "Now, the start of three thousand madcap miles to California!"
"California, here we come!" sang the doctor. "Right back where we started from!"
"The only problem, Victor, is we do not have a beautiful female patient in the back." said J.J.
"I still can't believe every girl I talked to turned us down." said Victor.
"There was also that girl I was talking to last night." said J.J. "I wish I'd gotten an opportunity to ask her."
"Why do I get the feeling you want her as more than just a patient?" asked Victor.
"What?" asked J.J.
"Hey, I don't blame you." said Victor. "I haven't seen you talk to a girl like that since Gina."
"Shut up!" said J.J.
"I would've waited an extra few months." said Victor. "But that's just me."
"I said 'shut up'!" said J.J.
"You bitter about something?" asked the doctor.
"If it's meant to be, she'll come back." said Victor.
"Well, in the meantime we need a beatiful female patient in the back." said J.J. "And until we get a beautiful female patient..."
J.J. stopped when he saw Foyt's car accident up ahead. "I believe I said something about second opportunities." said Victor.
"Damn Cannonballers!" groused Foyt.
Victor pulled up to the accident. "Oh, thank you." said Pamela. "Could you please help me and mister...uh..."
"Foyt." he reminded.
"Okay, Mr. Foyt." said J.J. "You can just climb into the service entrance in the back."
Mr. Foyt walked towards the back of the ambulance.
"As for you, miss, you can just come right in here this way." said J.J. as he opened the door and pulled Pamela into the ambulance. "Hit it!" he told Victor.
"Hey, wait!" yelled Foyt as the ambulance raced off with him holding on to the rear door handle. He actually became airborne for a few seconds before his hand slipped and he hit the pavement face-first.
In the ambulance, Pamela was briefly unaware of Mr. Foyt's absence. "Thank you for helping me." she said. "That's so nice of you."
"Next year, we're going for the Nobel Prize." said J.J.
Suddenly, Pamela noticed Foyt was missing. "Hey, wait." she said. "I think you forgot Mr...uh..."
"Foyt!" reminded J.J. and Victor.
"Well, we've got you. We're batting five hundred." said J.J. "Nobody's perfect."
Further down the road in New York, another team was in trouble. It was Blake and Fenderbaum. They climbed out of their Porsche and turned to face the state trooper who had pulled them over.
"Do you have any idea how fast you were going?" asked the trooper.
"I'm terribly sorry for that little lapse, my son." said Blake, fully acting the part of a priest. "Usually, I drive right around the speed limit."
"Losing track of your speed is one thing." said the officer. "But a hundred and forty miles an hour? That's a little more than a lapse."
He was interupted by four more engines roaring by, each paired with a couple of headlights. All of them raced by at high speed.
"What the hell is going on here?" asked the officer. "Everybody's driving like maniacs! Sorry, excuse my language, father."
"What language?" asked Blake, feigning forgiveness.
"Now, you've got Connecticut plates." observed the trooper. "Care to explain what you're doing in New York, father?"
"Oh, it's the monsignor's car." explained Fenderbaum. "He's attending an ecumenical council of prelates in California and we're delivering it to him."
"The monsignor drives a Porsche?" said the trooper rather suspiciously.
"It was left to him by one of the congregation's more affluent members." said Blake. "It was a donation."
"I see." said the trooper. "Okay, I'm going to cite you for ninety instead of one-forty what with all these speed-crazed maniacs on the road."
"Uh, could you write it for eighty?" asked Blake. "The monsignor wouldn't understand."
"Okay." said the trooper. "Just promise me you'll take it easier from now on."
"Yes, officer." said Blake as he received the ticket. After the involved parties returned to their cars, Blake breathed a sigh of relief.
"Almost seemless." said Fenderbaum.
In the ambulance, J.J. tried to explain the situation to Pamela. "And that's basicly all we want you to do." he told her. "After that, we can go our separate ways."
"I can't believe this is happening." she said. "I'm being kidnapped."
"Well, you can call it kidnapping if you want." said J.J. "The way I see it, we're taking a nice little ride in the country and we're picking up all the tabs."
"And just think." said Victor from the driver's seat. "We have a licensed physician on board in case somebody loses their taint."
Just then, a siren came on as a police car showed up behind them.
"J.J, we got company." said Victor.
"Okay, time to go to work." said J.J. as he tried to get Pamela to lay on the stretcher. "Just lay down."
"No!" yelled Pamela. "Why should I help you? You didn't even help mister...uh..."
"Foyt!" reminded J.J, Victor, and the doctor.
"Look, we need your help." said J.J. "Just this once."
"Give me one reason." said Pamela.
"Okay, if you do this, I'll personally plant a dozen trees next Labor Day." said J.J.
"Arbor Day." corrected Pamela.
"I always get those two mixed up." said J.J.
"Fine." said Pamela. She laid down on the gurney.
Victor finally pulled over. "What's the plan?" he asked.
"We'll try to con those two cops out of giving us a ticket while the doctor makes Beauty look legit." said J.J. "If something goes wrong, we'll need them to really sell it.
"Way ahead of you." said the doctor as he attached an IV to Pamela's arm.
Victor pulled over, then he and J.J. got out of the ambulance and confronted the state troopers behind them.
"Hi, officer!" said J.J. "What seems to be the problem?"
"What's the problem?" asked the officer. "You're doing one-twenty. Your little lights are flashing all over the place."
"We've got a patient in there." said Victor.
"You were still speeding." said the other trooper.
"She's very sick." said J.J. "She's the senator's wife. She has some rare disease."
"Well, there's not a hospital within fifty miles of here." pointed out the first trooper. "Where are you taking her?"
"U.C.L.A. Medical Center." said J.J.
"U.C.L.A?" asked the other trooper.
"L.A." said Victor.
"Well, tell me something." said the first trooper. "If she's that sick, why didn't you fly her?"
J.J. just looked dumbfounded. Victor asked "Why didn't we fly her?"
"We're just the drivers." said J.J. "I think we're going to have to ask the doc."
"That's a good idea." said the other trooper. "Why don't we ask the doc?"
Inside, the doctor was adjusting the monitors to give a convincing readout.
The troopers walked over to the ambulance's sliding door.
The doctor placed an oxygen mask over Pamela's face.
The troopers opened the side door and were met by the doctor's usual half-drunk gaze.
"What?" asked the doctor. "What is the meaning of this crude interuption?"
"Uh, doctor." asked the first trooper. "The patient. Why can't she be flown to California? Why does she have to be driven?"
"Do either of you watch ER?" asked the doctor.
"No." said the troopers simulataneously.
"Why can't she be flown?" asked the doctor. "Cysts. On the walls of her lungs. Very rare. Now, anybody who knows anything about medicine knows that airplanes are only pressurized at ten thousand feet. She wouldn't make it through Denver, it's so high. Therefore, she can't be flown. She must be driven."
"My husband, the senator will overlook this delay if you allow us to leave." said Pamela.
"Um, very well, ma'am." said the other trooper.
"Now, as you can see," said J.J. "we have to get to California to get this nice woman some help for her condition."
"Okay." said the other trooper. "We're gonna let you go, but as long as you're in New Jersey, we taught you guys to play it safe."
"Thank you, officer." said Victor as the troopers returned to their car. Victor and J.J. did the same.
"I'm glad we don't have people like that in New Jersey." said the first trooper.
"I guess you never met my brother-in-law Ralph." said the other.
The police car drove off just after that. J.J. and Victor laughed about their perfect deception, then drove off themselves.
"That was incredible." said Victor.
"When I told that cop we were going to L.A, I thought he was going to have a cardiac arrest." joked J.J.
"Wasn't Beauty terrific?" asked Victor.
"She was amazing!" said the doctor. "She should have her picture on the cover of Entertainment Weekly." He then moaned "Entertainment Weekly." and passed out.
"That was a great performance back there." said J.J. "I mean it. You were a regular Julia Roberts."
"What have I gotten myself into?" groaned Pamela as she took off the oxygen mask.
TO BE CONTINUED