Cannonball Run 2003
Chapter Four:Deception, Confession, Elimination
The next morning, Mr. Foyt was in a phone booth somewhere in Connecticut.
"It's the Cannonball, it's the damn Cannonball!" he said. "They just blew right by me like they were the god damned Red Brigade. They've kidnapped a woman, Pamela Glover." Just then, a van backed into the phone booth, but he didn't notice. "Yes, Ohio has been notified. Yes. Missouri has been notified as well. Plus, California is also in the know." He then checked his watch. "I'll have to call you back. I've got two minutes to catch my flight."
At that, he hung up and tried to leave the phone booth only to discover the van had him stuck inside. He struggled to open the door, but was unsuccessful. The woman who was driving the van walked by and Foyt tried to get her attention. "Madam! Madam!" he yelled.
"Madam?" she yelled. "I'm no madam! I'm a dignified, respectable woman! I don't even own a house, I live in an apartment! Now, get off my case! I'm late for my plane!"
She stormed off, leaving Foyt in the booth. He watched her leave helplessly, then tried to squeeze through the opening at the bottom.
J.J. climbed into the back of the ambulance to check on Pamela and the doctor. "How's the patient, doctor?" he asked.
The doctor took Pamela's wrist and listened to the ticking of her watch. "She's alive." he announced. "Guess she survived the procedure."
"Procedure." laughed Pamela. "If you had laid a hand on me..."
"Can I have a word with her alone, please?" asked J.J.
"Go ahead." said the doctor. He got up and climbed into the front seat.
J.J. sat in front of Pamela. "Are you doing okay?" he asked.
"About as well as I can be." said Pamela. "God, this has got to be the strangest situation ever."
"I will admit the circumstances are rather unusual." said J.J.
"So, what are you doing here?" asked Pamela.
"I just wanted to say I'm sorry." said J.J. "I was desperate. We needed someone to fill in for your role and you kind of happened along."
"So, what are you saying?" asked Pamela. "I was a victim of circumstance?"
"Kind of." said J.J. "Look, I just want to make a request. Just stay with us for the duration of the race and when we're done, you can leave. Free and clear. No questions asked."
"What about next year?" asked Pamela.
"We'll think of something else." said J.J.
Elsewhere, Jill and Marcie effortlessly cut through early morning traffic in their modded out MR2. Their moves attracted the attention of a motorcycle cop who immediately gave chase.
"Uh oh, trouble." said Jill.
"Want me to prep the nitrous system?" asked Marcie.
"Well, do SOMETHING, high-tech!" demanded Jill.
Marcie turned around and turned a valve on a bottle with the word "Venom" on it. She then turned back and flipped a switch on the control unit. "Go for it." she said.
Jill responded by flooring the accelerator. The MR2 responded by rocketing down the street and leaving the motorcycle cop in the dust.
"Wow!" exclaimed Jill. "That's what I call high-tech!"
"Good news." said Michael. "I think I've got some of the programming flaws in the navigation system figured out."
"There were problems?" asked Jackie.
"Yeah, we were supposed to be sent down the fastest route." said Michael. "Instead, we took a busier and longer highway."
"You're telling me that we're in this race with a system that you didn't work all of the flaws out of?" asked Jackie.
"That's about the size of it." said Michael.
Jackie reached for the Pop button.
"No!" yelled Michael as he grabbed Jackie's wrist.
Jackie returned his hand to the steering wheel.
"Trust me, you don't want me leaving so shortly after the trip has begun." said Michael.
Victor swerved in and out of traffic in Ohio. Little did he realize, Blake was hot on his trail. After they reached an open section of road, Blake pulled alongside the ambulance and honked the horn. Victor turned to look.
"Pull over!" yelled Fenderbaum. "We want to give you our blessings!"
"J.J, there's a priest in that car over there." said Victor as J.J. climbed into the front. "He says he wants to bless us."
Blake honked the horn again. "Pull over!" yelled Fenderbaum. Victor took another look and J.J. looked with him. "We want to bless you!" yelled Fenderbaum.
"When's the last time you saw a priest driving a Porsche?" asked J.J. "What were they doing? Taking the bingo money home?"
"They're doing the work of the lord." said Victor. "In a Porsche, they can just do it faster. Oh, look. They're waving at us. They want to bless us."
"Let me get this straight." said J.J. "You want us to pull over and be blessed by a priest in a red Porsche."
"Couldn't hurt." said Victor.
"Oy vey!" laughed J.J.
Victor pulled over and Blake pulled in next to him. Blake got out of the Porsche and J.J. got out of the ambulance.
"Nice car, father." said Victor as Blake walked in front of the vehicles.
"Thank you, asshole." said Blake.
Blake walked over to J.J. as Fenderbaum got out of the Porsche and walked over to the ambulance's rear tire.
"Nice car, father." said J.J.
"Thank you." said Blake. "That's what everybody says. That's what he said."
"So, what's the story?" asked J.J.
"Oh, we just drive around and ask to pull over ambulances." said Blake. "We like to bless the patients inside."
"Oh, alright." said J.J. as he opened the door. Blake's eyes lit up when he saw Pamela.
"Oh, I gotta bless her!" said Blake.
"Actually," said J.J. as he tried to close the door "she's a Zen Buddhist."
"Oh, we specialize in blessing Zen Buddhists." said Blake as he reopened the door. He saw the doctor and his jaw dropped.
"If you want to try blessing him, father, be my guest." said J.J. "We need all the help we can get."
Blake just gave him a quick wave and returned to the Porsche. Fenderbaum was already there. J.J. had closed the door and returned to the ambulance's passenger seat.
"Goodbye!" called Victor.
"Bye!" echoed J.J.
Fenderbaum waved to them and asked "Why don't you take that piece of shit back to the junkyard?" He laughed as Blake raced off.
Victor and J.J. wondered what he meant until they heard the hiss of leaking air. Victor looked over his shoulder.
"Uh, J.J." he said. "We've got a..."
"Flat." said J.J.
"Yeah." said Victor.
"And those two priests?" said J.J. "Weren't fathers. They were..."
"Mothers!" said Victor.
"Victor, can I discus something with you?" asked J.J.
"What?" asked Victor.
"C'mere." said J.J. as here waved his finger.
"Oh, jeeze." said Victor as he leaned in. When he was close enough, J.J. slapped him hard. "Aw! Shit!" he screamed.
"Well, that's the last of the Jolt." announced Mel as he rummaged through the cooler.
"And we're almost out of gas." said Terry. "We're going to have to get more at the next service area."
"There's one." said Mel. Terry pulled onto the off-ramp and entered the service area. He drove past a biker gang hassling an elderly couple and parked next to the gas pumps. He and Mel were out of the car within a couple of seconds.
"I'll gas 'er up." said Mel. "You get the snacks."
"Gotcha." said Terry as he ran over to the restaurants.
Mel inserted his credit card into the card reader at the pump, but the reader failed to notice it.
Terry stopped when he saw the bikers. "What do you want, hillbilly?" asked one of the bikers. Terry ran back to the Chevelle with the bikers all clucking like chickens.
The card reader failed to notice Mel's credit card again as Terry ran up to him and said "We've got a little problem with some big guys. Want to help?"
"Help?" replied Mel as he scoped out the bikers. "Gee, there's only a dozen of 'em." He then pointed out the problem with the card reader and asked "By the way, could you fix this for me?"
Terry gave the card reader a quick smack. Finally, the reader noticed Mel's credit card. Terry then turned his attention to the bikers.
Terry began by tagging one of the bikers in the back. When the biker turned around, Terry punched him in the nose. As the biker staggered away, his friends joined in and attacked Terry.
One biker ran over and crashed into Terry's extended elbow. Another tried to grab Terry and got thrown over a bench for his effort.
Another pair of bikers tried to tackle Terry and he grabbed one and threw him into the other. They ended up on their backs.
"I'll be with you in a minute!" yelled Mel.
Yet another pulled out a chain and attempted to hit Terry with it, but Terry grabbed it and managed to yank it out of the guy's hand. He then clocked the biker with his elbow and took a defensive stance.
Just then, the daughter of the elderly couple, a dark-haired woman, put her hand on Terry's shoulder. He turned and almost hit her, catching himself just in time. "Oh, sorry." he said. "What are you doing here, in the middle of all this chaos? It's not exactly a safe place to be."
The woman screamed when she saw two of the knocked down bikers getting back up. Terry turned to see what she was screaming about. He threw the chain at them and they tried to block. Terry then knocked them out with a pair of punches. He then turned back to the woman.
"That was wonderful." she cried. "Thank you."
"For you, anytime." said Terry.
"Would you like to meet my parents?" she asked. Terry turned and shook hands with the couple who had been being accosted by the bikers. They gave him their thanks.
"Would you like to stay for dinner?" she asked "My name's Sarah. What's yours?"
"My name's Terry..." he started before Mel grabbed him by the collar.
"Hey, we got a race to finish." said Mel. "Let's go!" He then dragged Terry off behind him amidst his protests.
"He can stay for dinner too!" yelled Sarah.
"What do you say, Mel?" asked Terry. "Huh?"
"And after twelve years of being told what I had to customize, I just said 'Enough!' and broke out on my own." said Mad Dog.
"So you went into business for yourself to be yourself." said Batman. "That's cool."
"I know." said Mad Dog.
"So, what's with all the craziness?" asked Batman. "You know, the asking for hookers, the shortcut to the interstate?"
"Yeah, back when I was working for 'The Man'," said Mad Dog "I found myself going insane doing what I was supposed to do instead of what I wanted to do. So basicly, I go crazy to keep from going crazy."
Batman laughed. "I think I'll go crazy one of these days." he said.
"Alright, but do it your own way." said Mad Dog.
Just then, a call came over the CB. "Yo, little four-wheeler that just flew on by me, I got smokeys all over by back door. Ten-four."
Mad Dog picked up the microphone and said "What the hell kind of jive you talkin', bro?" He then released the button and asked "Doesn't anybody speak English anymore?"
"They say Missouri...loves company." sang Victor as he drove the ambulance into St. Louis. It was time for another pit stop. He drove the ambulance into a local 7-11 and parked at the pump. He, J.J, Pamela, and the doctor jumped out and went to work.
Victor ran into the store to get some food and pay for the gas.
Pamela went to the ladies' room and the Doctor tried to join her. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"What?" he replied.
"You can't go in there!" she explained. "You're a man!"
J.J. stuck two gas nozzles into the ambulance's fuel door and pushed the button on the intercom.
"Welcome to Seven-Eleven. Can I help you?" responded the attendant.
"Pumps one and two, hit 'em." said J.J.
"What are you, some kinda nut?" asked the attendant. "You've got one unleaded there and one premium."
"She goes both ways." explained J.J. before looking at Victor in the store. "Big orange moonpie with the white hat on, he'll pay for it."
"And basicly, once you've seen one, you've seen 'em all." said the doctor. Without anything more to argue with, Pamela was forced to acquiesce.
While J.J. replaced the nozzles, Pamela and the doctor ran back to the ambulance. Victor followed with a pair of grocery bags.
"Let's go!" called J.J. Victor scrambled into the ambulance and J.J. drove out. Just then, Blake and Fenderbaum pulled in.
J.J. noticed them immediately, then noticed a police car next to the store. He pulled alongside the car and stopped. "Excuse me." he said. The officer walked over to his window. "Do you take your law and order in this town seriously?" he asked.
"Are you kidding?" asked the officer. He pointed to a banner that read "Re-elect Mayor Sean O'Hanlon for a safer St. Louis".
"Sorry I asked." said J.J.
Elsewhere, the Drake continued to drive down the highway. Meat Loaf's "Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad" was playing over the satellite radio.
Ron was dialling his cell phone. "I'm going to call up this station." he said. "Any requests, Mr. Drake?"
"Ron, we're in a race." said the Drake. "I think there's an obvious answer to that question."
"Right." said Ron. "Golden Earring, 'Radar Love'."
The Drake came to a stop at the next traffic light. While he was parked, Danny pulled alongside him in his Mangusta and had him roll down his window. The Drake complied.
"How the hell did you get ahead of us?" asked Danny.
"Not sure." said the Drake. "Any number of factors could have taken place. Maybe we took a faster route. Maybe we found a way to minimize our pit stops. Maybe we're just faster."
"Not bloody likely." said Melanie.
"Maybe you'd like to put 'faster' to the test." said Danny. "A thousand bucks. First one to the next light wins it."
"You're on, my Kiwi friend." said the Drake.
Danny adjusted his radio. "Twilight Zone" by Golden Earring started to play.
The light changed just as the Meat Loaf song ended. Coincidentally, the next song was also by Golden Earring. It was Ron's request, "Radar Love".
"Yes!" cheered the Drake. "There's no mistaking those opening notes."
The two cars took off racing. The larger BMW started to fall behind the smaller Mangusta. The Drake upshifted and maneuvered around the next car.
Danny pulled onto the shoulder to pass a slower car. He went to the next gear and angled around a pickup truck.
The Drake made his way into a clear lane and floored the accelerator.
"Sir, I know it's a good driving song." said Ron. "And I know Danny's a fierce competitor. But I think you're going a little too fast."
"It's like the Blue Oyster Cult song goes." said the Drake. "Don't fear the reaper."
"I think this should be more like the Chris DeBurgh song." said Ron. "You know, don't pay the ferryman. That is if the ferryman is Charon, the ferryman on the River Styx who takes souls to the afterlife in..."
"Ron, the man is driving a hundred and forty!" said Susan. "Don't make him think!"
Danny managed to get back into a clear lane and noticed the Drake slightly ahead of him. "Not this time, yuppie." he said.
"Look who's talking." said Melanie.
"I'm a metrosexual, not a yuppie." said Danny.
The Drake kept the accelerator floored and raced through the next light a few feet ahead of Danny. The Drake let out a sigh of relief. The two cars came to the next light and stopped.
Danny handed over a thousand dollars and said "Don't spend it all in one place."
"Believe me, I have plans for this." said the Drake.
Fenderbaum talked on the phone with Ricky while Blake filled the tank. "I see." he said. "We still have fifty-to-one odds. So how are the other teams doing?"
Just up the road, Team M.I.T. was still having computer problems. "I thought you said you'd have this thing fixed by the time we reached St. Louis!" yelled Jackie.
"I think the problem is that this computer sucks!" yelled Michael.
"So what? You can't fix it?" asked Jackie.
"Shut up and turn left!" yelled Michael.
Jackie made his left at high speed and promptly lost control. After they did two "doughnuts", they made their left.
After watching this display, Fenderbaum asked "By the way, Ricky, what are the odds on Team M.I.T. not finishing?"
"In the back of this ambulance is a flashing victim." said J.J. to the cop. "Somebody came up to her and flashed. She was so traumatized, she suffered a mental breakdown."
"You don't say." said the officer.
"They're driving around in a red Porsche." continued J.J. "And you know what the worst part is? They're dressed as priests."
"Why?" asked the officer.
"Well, they probably think it's kinkier dressed as priests." said J.J.
"My God, that's sick!" remarked the officer.
"Oh, another thing." said J.J. "I think they may be armed."
"God, I hope so." said the officer. "It would give me an excuse." he added while patting his sidearm.
"One last thing." said J.J. who then pointed at Blake and Fenderbaum leaving the Seven-Eleven. "There they are."
The officer nodded to him, then stepped into the Porsche's path. As the Boxster approached, the officer held up his badge. Blake stopped immediately.
"Flashers?" laughed Victor.
"Bye bye!" said J.J. as he drove off.
"J.J, you son of a..." yelled Fenderbaum.
"Step out of the car! Both of you!" ordered the officer.
Blake and Fenderbaum complied.
"On the ground now!" ordered the officer.
Blake and Fenderbaum quickly laid down on the pavement with their hands over their heads.
"What seems to be the problem?" asked Fenderbaum.
"We've got a report of a flashing." said the officer. "Victim is in a coma due to mental stress from someone dressed as priests in a red Porsche. The ambulance driver told me personally."
"J.J." groaned Blake. "Look, officer. This is just a part of a practical joke war. It's been going on for about six months."
"Six months is gonna seem like a summer vacation when the state of Missouri gets through with you." said the officer.
J.J. and Victor drove along in the ambulance.
"There appears to be a roadblock set up on 44." said Chuck Prescott over the radio. "They've got the highway jammed up looking for Cannonballers."
"Tell them about the alternate routes." said Betty.
"We're checking the road atlas." said Chuck. "There are some ways to bypass the roadblock. I'm not sure how well guarded those are."
"Chuck!" yelled Betty.
"What?" yelled Chuck. "Oh my God. I have to pull over. I'm trailing smoke. Over and out."
"A roadblock." said Victor. "Just when you think we've got a clear shot at L.A."
"We've got more problems." said J.J. "The transmission's slipping too. I don't think it can handle the extra horsepower."
"Hey, if the transmission holds, do you think we can bluff our way past the roadblock?" asked Victor.
"I dunno." replied J.J. "Just give me a minute to gather my thoughts."
J.J. continued to drive, then noticed a dump truck up ahead pulling an empty flatbed trailer.
"I've gathered my thoughts." said J.J. He then picked up the C.B. and said "Hey, lowboy! You see that ambulance in your rear-view mirror?"
Just down the road, the police had the road sealed off looking for the Cannonballers. Cars were passing through at a snail's pace. Danny and Melanie were next in line with Jackie and Michael shortly behind them. The dump truck with the ambulance on its trailer (the amblance was covered with a tarp) was a few cars behind them with Terry's Chevelle just after that.
"What's going on up there?" asked Jackie.
"Dunno." said Michael. "I'll try to find out." He activated the parabolic mic and aimed it at someone who was looking around at the front of Danny's Mangusta. It was Mr. Foyt.
"Now, let's see." he said. "This car has Florida plates." He then proceeded to check the plate number versus his list. "We've got one." he added. He then walked over to the car's window and asked "And what's your story?"
"We're just out looking for a decent pizza place." said Danny.
"With Florida plates, you came all the way to Missouri for pizza?" asked Foyt.
"How about we just moved?" asked Danny.
"How about the fact that your plate number is on my list of participants in the Cannonball?" asked Foyt. "Let's get these guys out of here. The good guys strike back!" he added as the police pulled the two out of their car.
"They're looking for Cannonballers and checking license plates." announced Michael.
"What can we do?" asked Jackie.
"Already working on it." said Michael as he started working on his computer.
The Subaru sported Massachusetts plates. Then, Michael finished his work and the plates, actually LCD panels, changed to New York plates with a different number. Mr. Foyt barely noticed, but was suspicious. He walked over to the window.
"What's your story?" he asked.
"Oh, we're just on a little road trip out to Vegas." said Michael.
"Oh, thank God." said Foyt. "Normal people."
"What's going on here?" asked Michael.
"Oh, it's nothing." said Foyt. "It's just a stakeout."
"Oh, bon apetit." joked Michael.
"College humor." groaned Foyt.
Hidden from the eyes of the police, Victor did his best to make repairs on the ambulance's transmission. He accidentally hit the frame with his wrench and made a loud "clank!"
"Quiet, Victor! You'll blow our cover!" whispered J.J. from the passenger compartment.
"J.J, this is not a nine-to-five job." replied Victor. "I wish you were here."
Outside, Mr. Foyt stopped a heavily tricked out Honda Accord that was leading a parade of similarly tricked out cars. He walked up to the driver's side window and knocked. The driver rolled down his window.
"What seems to be the problem?" he asked.
"We're looking for Cannonballers." said Foyt. "May I ask where you're heading?"
"There's a racing exhibition in Kansas City." replied the driver. "We're all going."
"All of you?" asked Foyt as he looked back at the parade.
"Yes." replied the driver.
"I guess we're going to have to let you all through." said Foyt. "Okay, let's move it along." he added as he waved the other cars through.
The parade of tricked out cars drove through the roadblock. Just down the road, a black MR2 pulled out of the parade and pulled alongside the Accord. Marcie rolled down her window and said "Thanks for your help. We owe you one."
"The only thing you owe us is a victory." said the Accord's driver.
"Thanks." said Jill. "And if you're ever in L.A, look us up."
In the ambulance, Pamela tried to relax. J.J. joined her. "Victor's working on the tranny." he said. "We're making it through the roadblock right now."
"Good, maybe we'll make it to L.A." said Pamela.
"What, you're supporting us now?" asked J.J.
"Hey, the sooner I get to Los Angeles, the sooner I get set free." said Pamela.
"Oh, I see how it is." said J.J. "We take you on the adventure of a lifetime and this is the thanks we get?"
"Well, you grabbed me." said Pamela. "You made me pretend I was sick. You made me forget my favorite blouse back at the hotel."
"I did? I'm sorry." said J.J.
"So, why are you doing all this?" asked Pamela. "The racing, the costumes, everything."
"Just for the hell of it." said J.J.
"But why?" asked Pamela.
J.J's expression turned somber, as if he was remembering something painful. "Mostly because of my dad." he explained. "He used to take part in the Cannonball every year when they originally ran it."
"When was that?" asked Pamela.
"The first race was in 1971 and I believe the last one was in 1984." said J.J. "Anyway, dad taught me everything I know about the internal combustion engine and whatever connects it to the tires. It's because of him that I do what I do."
Pamela thought about this for a few seconds. "What happened to him?" she asked quietly.
J.J. took a second to answer. "He had a heart attack and lapsed into a coma." he said. "He was a tough old bastard. It took him a week to succumb."
"Oh." said Pamela sadly.
"And you know what the worst part is?" asked J.J. "He was making plans for his retirement. He said that one day, he'd pack it all up, move to Florida, go fishing every day, tell my mom lies. He died two days before he was supposed to retire."
Pamela wiped a tear from her eye.
"I thought of all the times he told us his plans." said J.J. "I realized that he never got a chance to do what he really wanted because he waited so long. That's when I said I was gonna go for it. Whatever it was, I was going for it."
"Okay, move it along, people." said Mr. Foyt. The dump truck drove by.
Foyt didn't notice this, but he did notice that the red Chevelle in front of him had a license plate on his list. He walked over to the driver's side window.
"Hi, officer." chirped Mel. "What seems to be the problem?"
"Oh, you didn't think you were going to get away with this." said Foyt. "We're gonna get the whole lot of you now."
"Not here, you won't!" exclaimed Terry. "The word is out about your little roadblock. They're talking about it all up and down this superslab."
"Get these losers out of here!" said Foyt as the police pulled Mel and Terry out of the Chevelle. Foyt looked up at the taller Terry and said "You think you're so big."
As the police carted Mel and Terry away, Foyt realized that the Chevelle was right in the middle of the road. "Hey, could some of you help me move this?" he asked before reaching into the car. "I'll put it in neutral." He then moved the gear selector.
What Foyt didn't realize was that he had actually put the car in drive. Even at idle, this was enough to get the car moving. The Chevelle started gaining speed as it rolled down the incline.
"Stop that car!" yelled Foyt as the Chevelle rumbled towards the river. The Chevelle drove off the side and plunged in, crashing into a rock at the bottom. The car then exploded in a massive fireball. Foyt and Mel stared in shock while Terry dropped to his knees covering his face with his hands.
Somewhere down the road, J.J. backed t off the trailer. As he passed the dump truck, he yelled "Thanks a lot! Keep on truckin'!"
TO BE CONTINUED