Traffic in the Attic

Tristan's Truck Trouble

Once again, back up in the attic...

"Please stop talking to me." said Tristan to Shane. "I'm afraid I might say something that I do mean but shouldn't say."

"Trouble in Paradise, Shane?" asked Wyatt, thinking it best to allow the 'defendant' to speak first.

Shane gave out a strong sigh. "Apparently, I'm still vacationing in the doghouse."

"Actually," said Tristan, breaking his own rule, "You now live in the doghouse; I've already made change of address cards and told the post office to forward your mail."

"Down boy!" exclaimed Shane. "I can't believe, after that little stunt you pulled, I'm not allowed to play a practical joke?"

"Joke?" Tristan echoed. "What part of showing my parents my wet, naked body, before I've even had a chance to tell them my name, is funny?" he asked worriedly. "Thanks to you, my middle name's probably gonna be Peter."

"Ooh! Ooh!" Steve shouted, raising his hand. "Can I have Phinley then?"

Chris chimed in. "If it makes ya feel any better, it wasn't the first time today that it happened."

"Really?" asked Tristan.

"Really."

A series of possibilities raced through Tristan's jumbled mind. Then, it came to him: "Steve, was it you?"

"Well..."

Chris grinned slightly. "How'd you guess?"

"Doesn't count." Tristan insisted.

"How come?" asked Wyatt.

Having no better argument, Tristan simply spoke his mind. "Because it's... well, ...Steve."

Chris looked across the way to Wyatt. "What d'ya think?"

Wyatt nodded, then looked to the others. "Judges?"

"I side with the plaintiff," Dylan declared, "but I don't have a shred of admissible evidence to support the claim."

Wyatt voted next. "I'm afraid I have to agree with Dylan," he said apologetically. "Sorry, Steve."

Steve simply shrugged and casually waved him off, seemingly unoffended.

Chris called out, "All in favor?"

The vote was unanimous, much to Shane's chagrin: Steve's nakedness did not hold the same level of severity that Tristan's did.

"Very well," said Wyatt, and turned towards Tristan. "As you know, you've now earned the right to... um... keep complaining."

Shane grumbled under his breath. "What else is new?"

"Thank you, Your Honors." said Tristan. Then, turning his head to the right, he said to Shane, "Your little so-called 'practical joke' has now carved an irreversible, mental bookmark in our parents' minds... and not the good kind either."

"You wanna talk irreversible?" returned Shane. "Who's gonna give me back the three years you took off my life by knocking the hell outta me with the dashboard?"

"Hey," Tristan blamelessly responded. "I tried to get you to put your seatbelt on but ohhhh no: 'Ah'm Shane!' 'Ah'm indestruuuctible' 'Seatbelts? No thaynk ya ma'am. Not fuh me.'

Though Shane found Tristan's impression of him to be rather cute, for the sake of his side of the argument, he maintained his grumpy facade.

"Say, Tris," Dylan began, "Do ya get a free banjo with that accent, or is that sold separately?"

"Fine!" Shane admitted, ignoring Dylan's remark. "Yes Tristan, you did tell me to wear the seatbelt. But! ...Since it took you 20 minutes to get out of the parking spot, I thought the odds that I'd wind up engaged to my windshield were pretty slim. Silly ol' me!"

"Engaged?" said Wyatt.

"Of course," said Steve. "Shane's a gentleman; It's the right thing to do."

"Wait... Start from the beginning." said Chris, diplomatically. "Tristan, it took you 20 minutes to get out of a parking lot?"

"No, no." Shane jumped in, "Not the parking lot; the parking space. Believe me when I tell you, gentlemen and Steve, that it is possible to get car sickness even if you only travel five feet."

"So..." Steve began. "If you're engaged, where are you guys registered?"

Dylan dryly suggested, "Sears Auto?"

"Uh.." Shane stumbled. "Sure, okay. Why the hell not?"

"Sweet!" Steve exclaimed. "I'm gonna get the bride one of those scented pine tree thingies."

"That is so rude." Dylan scolded. "That's ruder than rude. That's like..."

"Why's that rude?" Steve asked earnestly. "I think it's kinda nice."

Dylan asked patronizingly, "Would you give a bride deodorant on her wedding day?" He then acted out the hypothetical situation. "Congratulations on your wedding! And here; it's strong enough for a man, but made for a woman."

"Huh." said Wyatt. "That makes a surprising amount of sense."

Steve returned, "But that's what the trees are supposed to do: make scents."

"No Steve," Chris groaned, "Not scents; sense!"

Steve scratched his head, appearing genuinely perplexed. "But you just said the same word tw-..."

"Guys?" Tristan interrupted, with all the politeness he could muster. "Can we pretty please forget about the bride to be for a second?"

Shane said teasingly, "Tris, I really don't see what you're getting so upset about. Most people are naked when their parents see them for the first time."

"Hold it!" Chris said firmly, before Tristan could retort. "Now, let's try this one... more... time... What happened?"

Shane assumed the role of narrator number one. "Ya know how Dad said I should teach Tristan to drive a stick shift since that's what his truck is now?" he began. "Well, today, the little long-haired freak rammed my truck into the back of some guy's parked car.

Tristan mumbled in embarrassment. "I'm sorry! I found his bumper sticker highly offensive."

Dylan chided, "Yeah well, I bet his bumper sticker's not too wild about you either."

For a moment, Wyatt's face froze in a laugh that got stuck on its way out. "Hold on, Tristan," he said once he'd recoverred. "You did it on purpose? ...What... is the world... coming to?"

"I couldn't help it!" Tristan pleaded. "I flew into a politically correct rage."

Wyatt opened the white box that held the handkerchief that Tristan had given him in case he ever started to 'foam at the mouth'. "Listen Tristan, any time you need to borrow this, you just let me know," he teased.

"Oh it doesn't stop there." Shane went on, in an older-brotherly fashion. "After he rammed the car the first time, he backed the truck up and rammed it again."

Chris wasn't sure whether he felt amused or terrified. "Tristan?" he said concernedly, "What happened to you? That doesn't sound like you at all."

Though still embarrassed, Tristan managed to summon enough confidence to present his argument. "Ya see, this is why I'm morally opposed to bumper stickers in general," he explained enthusiastically. "A bumper sticker is the start of a conversation and it's really rude to say something and not give the other person a chance to respond. I couldn't respond verbally, so I rammed the back of his car with Shane's truck."

It took a moment for Wyatt's shocked voice to reagain the ability to speak. "Please tell me the driver wasn't in the car when this happened!"

"Nope." Shape answered. "But he ran right up to the window as soon as Bulldozer Boy here backed out the second time."

Chris asked nervously. "What the hell did you say to him?"

Tristan stared at the ground and mumbled, "I told that I had narcolepsy and must've hit the pedal when I fell asleep."

It was such an easy image for them all to conjure in their minds, and the fact that it was completely out of character for Tristan made the situation that much more humorous.

"Quick thinkin', Tris." said Dylan. "Utterly ridiculous thinkin'... But still quick."

Wyatt asked, "What about the second time?"

Since Tristan was too embarrassed to answer, Shane did so for him. "He said that he woke up just long enough to back the truck up but must've fallen asleep and slammed the pedal again."

Wyatt's jaw could've hit the floor from shock. "Oh... my... GOD!"

"What about the other guy's car?" asked Chris, his inner parent taking over. "Is he pressing charges?"

"No." Tristan uttered. "I had it fixed before he even turned back around to look at it... That is, it was fixed except for a certain bumper sticker."

Chris asked, "So there's no evidence, right?"

"Not a scratch." Tristan promised.

"Hey, at least there's some good news," Steve began; "Now we know for sure that Tristan can drive Dad's truck."

"So, where'd you guys leave everything?" asked Chris, "With this guy, I mean..."

"I took care of it," said Shane, a playful cockiness in his voice.

"Please tell me he still has all his arms and legs," said Wyatt.

Shane smiled wickedly, "Would you settle for one of each?"

"I have to know," said Chris, "What the hell did that bumper sticker say?"