While the Roadrunners and the traders and other flotsam were breaking up and driving out into the morning sun, Martialla and I sat on our new car and watched them disperse. She looked over at me and asked what we were going to do next. Wonderful question. We have transportation and all the “food” and (sort of) clean water we can carry. Now what? Then she answered her own question because she’s an incredibly rude person.
“Do we wander the earth like Caine from Kung-Fu?” I sighed and shook my head at her nonsense. “You were in an episode of Kung Fu the Legend Continues, so don’t you roll your eyes at me about Caine from Kung Fu!”
I grunted a mild admission “That wasn’t a bad part.”
“For you maybe, I broke my coccyx falling out of that window.”
“Occupational hazard. If you wanted to be on screen without being set on fire or run over or hurled into a crash pad, you should have been prettier.”
“And learned to act.”
“Well, acting ability doesn’t hurt none but it’s not strictly necessary for an actress either. I mean look at Pam Anderson.”
“I thought for sure you were going to go J-Lo on that one.”
I rolled off the car “Speaking of, that’s what I’m going to call our new wheels.”
Martialla slowly slide off to her feet as well “Let me guess, because it’s ugly and has a big rear end?”
I hopped into the driver’s seat Dukes of Hazzard style “And because getting inside is no problem at all.”
Martialla gingerly climbed in on the other side “There are no doors and the windows are literally armored plates, it’s not easy to get into at all. Are you ever going to let up on Jennifer Lopez? She’s long dead, if there was ever a point to your constant trashing, it’s long gone now.”
“Shows what you know about being a catty bitch.”
“You are the expert there.”
I reached over and gave her a sisterly pat on the shoulder “Don’t sell yourself short Mar, you can be an enormous bitch when you put your mind to it. You just need to practice. I’m thinking we should head for Colorado Springs.”
Martialla looked out the window as if she could see it in the distance “Peterson Air Force Base?”
I nodded “The ever same. If the NORAD headquarters don’t have apocalypse-proof bomb shelters, I don’t know who does.”
She grinned “Mr. President we must not allow a MINESHAFT GAP!”
“I told you before Martialla, don’t be a dork, I can’t abide it. I wonder what the plans were in terms of nuclear annihilation. Hide out under the mountains of course, but then what? If that was really a hundred years ago, what is going to be going on there now? Will they still be underground, ignorant of the world above?”
Martialla smiled brightly “Only one way to find out. How do you propose we get there? When you asked for a map all they could do was show you a piece of metal with some wavy lines gouged into it.”
I shrugged “The road goes east, sort of, we’ll figure it out as we go.”
“That sounds like a great way to run out of fuel in the middle of nowhere and starve to death.”
“Don’t be silly Martialla, you know we’d die of dehydration long before we starved to death.”
You’re mostly likely saying to yourself “Ela why are you the one behind the wheel? I thought Martialla was your driver.” I’ll tell you why, thanks for asking. I went to stunt driving school to try and get a part in a movie called Speed Demon. Not because I would actually be doing any stung driving in the movie had I gotten the part, but because that’s the kind of thing that impresses casting directors. Sometimes. You really never know what casting directors are going to do. Other than try to get you naked. Even the women. Especially the women sometimes.
Speed Demon never did end up in production because the entire pitch was a scam cooked up by Joshua Jackson so he could try and strong arm his way into that stupid Fast & Furious movie. Which didn’t even work by the way. You wasted everyone’s time and money Joshua Jackson and I hope that when society crumbled you were taken as a warlord’s concubine. I’m sorry guys, I don’t mean that, I shouldn’t make light of sexual assault. I just hope he got ran over by a cement truck.
Anyway, I found out in stunt class that I’m a pretty good driver. After Speed Demon fell apart, for fun I went to a racing school and did pretty good there as well. One of the instructors there said that I have the reflexes and instincts to be a pro. Although he was probably just trying to get me naked. I don’t have Martialla on staff because I can’t drive, I just like having someone else around to do it. Plus pity. Also she shot that gun once at someone who was maybe trying to attack me.
My dad was a big car guy. Not classic cars or old cars or muscle cars, he liked all cars. He was always tinkering with the family car, often to my mom’s annoyance. I know he worked at an auto shop when he was a kid. I think he would have been happier if he had a little joint like that that he ran his entire life instead of getting into the corporate world. I wonder what he would have made of seeing me behind the wheel of this monstrosity.
The Joshua Jackson paragraph cracked me up. Wasn’t he an original Mighty Duck? It’s all been downhill from there.
Ducks fly together. He was also in Fringe (aka the New X-Files) which I didn’t care for but many people of my ilk enjoyed
She is DEFINITELY going to see this through her daily google search for her name, and her FEELINGS are going to be HURT.
It’s an homage