Tracklist:
Drivin’ – Pearl Harbor & The Explosions
White Wedding – Billy Joel
Ila Nzour Nebra – Jalal Hamdaoui, Driver
8
From the back seat of the Town Car, Duke Nichego tossed a can of Squirt at the dashboard. The radio shut off with a bang, a method of operation certainly not recommended by Emerson, the manufacturer of many trusty electronic products including this one.
“Are you insane?” yelled Billie from the passenger seat. She flung the foaming can out the window.
“I am not insane,” said Duke Nichego. “I am the opposite––‘unsane’. How am I supposed to marry Angelika if the American security forces capture and slowly torture her to death in a bucket of water?”
“The police don’t work that way in America.”
“It’s a good thing they don’t. So barbaric and time-consuming. We slice the bottom of foot and insert grasshopper.”
In Vassily’s incapable hands, the car swerved through the tight curves of the Sierra Nevadas. Billie clasped a hand over her mouth and straight-armed the dashboard.
“Can we talk about something else?” she gasped.
Vassily giggled. “What is matter, small man? Do you feel terror at my driving car? I am first-place champion in last year’s Kamchatkan Motor Speedway.”
Duke Nichego leaned forward. “Other cars had sudden and unfortunate explosion at the same time.”
“It’s not that, you pair of goons,” said Billie. “You both smell like peanuts.”
Nichego shrugged. “What is wrong with peanut?”
“Number one,” said Billie, “I’m allergic. Number two, I hate that disgusting nut. The massive military-industrial complex crams peanuts in everything from skin cream to breakfast cereal because of some hundred-year-old directive left over from the Spanish-American War, just like income tax from World War I. When I see a can of mixed nuts with any percentage of peanuts over ZERO, you better not be around because I’m going to break things, including that can, the dishes, and any glassware dangling from your startled little hands. I wish I could find whoever invented peanuts. I’d light him on fire and cover the body in a mountain of those yellow squirrel turds.”
“God invented it,” said Chip.
“Shut up.”
“Vassily, roll down all windows,” said Duke Nichego. “If she is sick, you will be the one cleaning up in aisle seven.”
“Yes, sir.”
A cool breeze and fragrance of pines filled the car.
“Also, note in schedule for us to take shower,” said Nichego. “I want my guests to feel as comfortable as possible before they are violently murdered for not finding my dear bride, Angelika. Yes, murder looks more and more possible, every minute this strange boy-man is not finished with his magic wand.”
Chip looked up from the mass of wires and green circuit boards on his lap. Smoke curled from a soldering gun in his hand and blinding light bobbed around the car’s interior from a flashlight duct-taped to his head.
“Killing us won’t get this done. I’m trying to connect integrated circuits in the back of a moving car! It’s like delivering a baby on a roller coaster.”
“That is not difficult,” said Nichego. “Russian YouTube has many videos of small child born in coaster. Maybe Russian peoples are smarter than American.”
“Okay, fine. Why don’t you cram a half-dozen Commies into an ICBM and shoot them our way,” said Chip. “You’ll need that or the gleaming finger of God to fix this tracking device, if I get motion sickness.”
Vassily laughed. “Russia is no longer Communist, you silly, and only three Siberian prisoners can fit inside ICBM.”
“Don’t care.”
“I can raise your spirits,” said Nichego. “Let’s play Red Car, Blue Car.”
“Still don’t care.”
“If we see red car, we stop them, steal socks, and shoot males to death. If we see blue car, we stop them, steal socks, and––”
“Shoot females to death, I get it.”
“What kind of sick person are you? Driver of blue car has to wear underwear of Vassily on head. It’s very funny. I show YouTube but connection horrible now, not even 3G.”
“We’ll never catch this Angela or whatever her name is if we do that,” said Chip. “Although given what I’ve just said, I really need the car to stop moving.”
Nichego slapped the back of the seat. “Vassily, halt at next fuel replenishment station. I will consume Little Debbie and make entertaining comments to fuel replenishment girls.”