EIGHTEEN
"We're rolling Mr. Mercer, and, action," Seymour directed his boss toward the film camera.
"Hey folks, Burton Mercer and Ness here on the road in east Texas after the Blues Brothers," Mercer said, leaning up against the closest cop car, Ness in his lap, "You know, the last two times they've gotten out of prison, they've caused untold millions of dollars worth of property damage. You can thank George Haroldson's poorly lax justice standards for allowing this to happen. I think the fact that I'm out here actively chasing them down and he's back in Springfield getting fat off your taxes speaks all the..."
He was forced to stop as Ness unexpectedly relieved himself on his master's pants. "Ness!" the Director of Corrections shouted at his pet, "Couldn't you wait until after the take!"
Ness gave him a guilty look. "Somebody get me a clean set of pants!" Mercer called to his support staff.
"Actually Mr. Mercer, I think what you did get during that take was stellar," Seymour told him with an edge of sycophancy, "We'll just edit the parts after that to..."
"Mr. Mercer, we've got a tip on them," Daniel ran up, "They're about fifteen miles to the west of us; if we hurry, we might be able to catch up with them."
"You here that boys, let's go get 'em!" Mercer yelled to all the cops and feds. As he rushed for his car, his wardrober came up with a fresh set of pants. "Here you go, Mr. Mercer," he said, undoing the Director's saturated pair—while he was walking, causing him to trip and fall. "Not now, Lloyd!" Mercer yelled, squirming out of his grasp in his underwear, "We've got to get on them pronto! Give me those; I'll change while I drive."
He jumped into his car and turned on his GPU. A blue blip on the top left side of the screen hinted the location of the Bluesmobile. No escape now, you guys," he said.
A few miles ahead of them, Elwood noted the sign reading WELCOME TO LUFKIN along the side of the road. "We're makin' good progress," he informed the others in Bluesmobile #1, "Time to check in on the others."
He activated the radio Jake had magically installed in the car. "Hey Mack, how's it goin'?" he asked the second car.
"Reasonable, Elwood," Mack told him over the airwaves, "Although I can't put on any speed here, or Cab'll have a stroke."
"Speeding is against the law, and you're doing it now; slow down," Cabel could be heard saying. "I'll tell you Elwood, he's driving me nuts with whatever's affecting him," Mack admitted.
"Yeah, uh, my advice would be just to live with it, "Elwood shrugged, "Where are ya?"
"A little south of St. Louis," Mack said, "We'll turn west the first chance we get."
"Right, best of luck," Elwood signed off.
"Where are we stopping?" Buster asked his ward.
"We've got a place set up for us at some college about fifteen miles from here," Elwood told him, "They've got room service, too."
"Oh come on!" Jake yelled miserably from the front passenger seat as a large section of the relic collapsed on him yet again. He'd been reassembling it much like a jigsaw puzzle ever since they'd hit the highways again, but had encountered numerous setbacks like this one. "I'll never date again," he vowed as he picked up the pieces and started over, "No telling when they'll end up in Hell."
"Do they even let you date in heaven?" Elwood inquired.
"You have access to women, but only your true love can last, and since I unfortunately didn't have one, I'm just a 'friend,' if you will," Jake told him.
"What is heaven like?" Buster asked him.
"Well, actually, it's whatever you want it to be," Jake told him.
"And what do you see it as?" Zee had to know.
"The world's largest blues hall," Jake said.
"Sorry I asked, "Zee shrugged. He leaned over the front seat and asked, "If I was adopted, did you ever find our parents yet—the real ones, I mean?"
"No, but I'm still looking, brother," Jake said, "I've got a couple of leads to our mother, and I've met a couple of guys who knew your father. He might not be dead yet, actually, I'm not sure. Gotta check in with Mayor Daley again the next time we play racquetball."
"Oh, you know him?"
"Zee, I know all sorts of famous people," Jake said, "In fact I have lunch with Lincoln twice a week."
"Have you guys been helping the Cubbies this year?" Zee held up the newspaper he'd been reading, showing the Cubs' World Series exploits, "Because you know, we see all the movies where you guys help out with..."
"Yeah, we helped a little during the regular season," Jake said, "Personally, I pitched in during that game in St. Louis in July; kept that grounder in the bottom of the twelfth from going foul. We're staying out of the Series, though; like they say, championships have to be won on their own. In the meantime, I play a little pickup with Luke Appling and Johnny Evers at Old Comiskey and..."
"Old Comiskey's in Heaven?" Zee was amazed.
"Well sure Zee; ballparks have souls too," Jake said.
"Comiskey's DEAD!?" Elwood was shocked.
"Where've you been?" Zee was surprised Elwood hadn't heard of Comiskey's destruction.
"So Mr. Blues, how do you manage to be down here with us when you're that busy up there in Heaven?" Katrina asked Jake.
"Well you see, cherub, the time-space relationships here on Earth don't work the same way in Heaven," Jake explained to her, "Up there we can manipulate the spectrum like..."
Just then Armstrong started barking out the bark window. "Uh, I don't think we want to see flashing lights, do we?" Zee asked, staring at the swarm of cop cars behind them.
"Hold on," Elwood went into emergency mode immediately. He put the pedal to the metal, and the Bluesmobile roared up the parkway. The cops had managed to get rather close without being detected, however, and remained on his tail.
In his car, Mount radioed in to the local authorities. "Hello, we're in high speed pursuit on the Lufkin Parkway," he announced to anyone who might happen to be listening, "Please give us backup and help us stop the Blues Brothers."
"Ten-four," came someone's voice, "Are you heading westward?"
"That's an affirmative," Mount told him.
"Roger, we're on it," the local cop said.
In Mercer's car, General Storrs activated his walkie-talkie. "I want tanks and helicopters west of Lufkin immediately," he ordered his men, ""This ends right here and...," he became aware that they were now swerving all over the parkway and slamming into the guard rails. "Mercer, what the hell are you doing!?" he demanded to his ally.
"General, everything's...cut it out, Ness!" Mercer shouted to his dog, which, attracted by his master's fire hydrant-emblazoned underwear, was sniffing him in the forbidden area. He tried to push the dog away, with little success.
Up the road, the local cops pulled out a spike strip onto the highway. "We're in position now," one of the cops radioed to Mount, 'Their tires'll deflate really fast."
"Here they come now," one of his colleagues pointed toward several glowing headlights coming toward them very fast. The cops took their positions at the side of the road, weapons cocked. The Bluesmobile ran over the spike strip—but didn't slow down at all. In fact, the spikes seemed to have no effect on the former police car's tires at all. "WHAT!?" one of the cops exclaimed, watching the Bluesmobile speed off even faster in the distance, "It always stops them!"
His assumed knowledge was proved partially true as many of the pursuing police cars ran over the strip and blew out their tires. Loud curses sprang up from the stranded cops. The luckier cars swerved over on the shoulder, totaling the local cops' cars.
Now with a little more of a cushion, Elwood swerved over onto the eastbound lanes as the parkway started coming to an end. He jumped a little shock as a huge tractor trailer carrying a house on its flatbed lumbered out into the intersection ahead of them, blocking it. "We'll never make that!" he exclaimed.
"Keep driving," a look of intense concentration appeared on Jake's face. The next thing Elwood knew, the Bluesmobile was shrinking to the size of a peanut. The shrunken car zipped under the blockage with plenty of room to spare.
"Hey, where they go?" Agent Orange asked, puzzled by the Bluesmobile's apparent disappearance.
"Watch it Mercer!" General Storrs shouted as the car approached the tractor trailer. Too preoccupied trying to get Ness off his underwear, Mercer didn't see the blockade until lit was too late. His car wedged underneath the flatbed, which tore the roof clean off his vehicle. "No, no, no!" he groaned, "Not my beautiful car!"
There was another loud crash. Daniel and Mount's cruiser had its sirens shaved off. "This was stupid, Mr. Mercer!" Daniel yelled at his boss. There was the grinding sound of brakes as the rest of the cop fleet ground to a halt, blocked.
"Hey you!" Evil Cabel shouted at the truck's cab, "Get this thing out of our way now, or we'll take you in!"
There was no response from the cab. Agent Orange shook his head in disgust. "Why is it so hard to catch these guys!?" he muttered to no one in particular.