The Face Issue #3: Trailblazers - Episode 10
Delighted at the sight of Stephen's tainted white escape vehicle, Tim, Brad, and I rushed to safety. "Put the pedal to the metal!" Tim cried. And Steve did just that. With engines roaring and tires screeching, we sped off, leaving our ill-humored friends fading behind. We sat in satisfaction as we watched our pursuers uselessly brandish their arms at us. "Ah safety at last," I said, while reaching my hands to rest behind the back of my head. "So, Stephen, you finally came through for us. I was beginning to worry for a bit there," I explained. "Why the change of heart?" I asked. Things grew quiet, and there was a tingent of seriousness in the air.
Stephen replied in a grave, solemn tone, "I thought about what you said....and I realize now that true friends are there for each other, no matter what the situation, no matter what you're up against, even if it is a deadly mob that can tear me limb from limb." As he finished those words, we sat in silence in awe at his profound realization. After a few seconds had passed, Bradley broke the muteness with clapping hands. "Das mahty noebal uv yous," He said. Stephen looked at Bradley, nodded his head, then turned to the back seat to Tim and me.
"By the way," he began. "Who the fleck is this guy?" he asked us. "Oh Bradley?" Tim verified. "He's a juniuh eggs-ecative camrah man that helped us question Kaitlyn Grimm, for info on the Landra Lawson case," he explained. Stephen put on a shocked look on his face. "I know Kaitlyn Grimm! Didn't we see her at that one play, with Shawn, Trevin, and Carl....what's it called.....a Midsummer Night's Dream?" Stephen asked. I held my index finger up to correct the disknowledgeated Stephen Litnewski. "No, no," I said in a David-Schwimmer type way. "It's called....A Midwinter's Day Dream." Stephen inquired further. "Did you find any useful information?" Stephen asked. I opened my mouth to give an answer, but all of a sudden, we heard a distant screeching noise and then a crash. A car was wrecklessly speeding down the road, and while doing so, rammed another off the road. We watched in horror as the car flipped over and rolled into a brick building.
"Criminy!" Tim yelled. "What's going on out there!? Those crazy son-of-a-guns!" he continued. "If we don't get out of the way, we'll be next!" I said. But my words were spoken too soon. As the speeding black car sped forward toward us, I was able to get a glimpse of who was driving. It was Shep, Johnny, and Barney. "Stephen!" I cried. "Speed it up! It's the mob....and they're after us!" Stephen looked back at me dumbfoundedly. "How in blazes did you get involved with the mob!?" He questioned. "There's no time to explain!" I said, watching as the mob car was gradually creeping closer towards us. At that moment, Stephen's resolve strengthened. "Well, for whatever reason, I'll get you outta this guys! Don't you worry!" Feeling completely confident in our daring friend's motor skills, we comfortably watched as he took action.
"This'll get rid of him!" He cried courageously. We anxiously awaited his actions. Slowly, Stephen raised his arm.....he pushed down the button to roll down the window. This is it, we thought, wondering what unbelievable feat he might accomplish. He then stretched his arm wide outside the window....and began waving it back and forth horizontally. "Go around! Go around!" He prompted the mobsters. We ourselves, were dumbfounded at this.....strange escape tactic, and slapped our hands over our eyes in shame.
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Meanwhile, Shep watched as Stephen's arm prompted him to go around. "Get em! Shep! Ram em to the bottom of dah sea!" Johnny cried, in his still-bandaged state. Upon seeing the hand signal, Shep, a law-abiding citizens, sought this opportunity to go around. Johnny, watching with glee, soon realized what was happening, and the smile on his face began to fade. He looked out the window to his right and saw himself, passing the car that contained his aggressors. He saw as we stared back at him once, then realizing our situation, we stared at him a final time with appalled and surprised faces.
"You idjit!" Johnny yacked. He slapped Shep upside the head. "Don't go around when they tell yas to go around!" He explained to the ignorant Shep. "But boss.... he prompted me to go around, I think the lawful thing to do was go around," he defended in his low baritone voice. "You mashuga nut! You're a mobster! You're not supposed to abide by justical laws!" Johnny cried hopelessly. During this much needed time, Stephen slowly drifted behind the mobsters and hid from sight in a crowd of trafficked cars. Johnny precariously looked about the road for the white V6 Grand Am GT, but alas it could not be found. "Make a U-Turn Shep, at that next toin!" Johnny instructed. "Will do, boss!" Shep obeyed. He then drove up to the left-most lane, and turned on his signal. Tick-ta-tick-ta the signal went. But just then, Shep noticed something at the corner of his eye.
"Uhp! It's a no U-Turn sign, sorry boss. Can't do it." Johnny's eyes were twitching, and his veins were popping. He seemed to be very agitated. Just then, he heard a ringing noise. It was Johnny's cell phone. Unfortunately, in his still bandaged state, he was unable to reach his cell phone. "Bawns! Get da darwn mobile!" Johnny demanded. "Aye, sir, but Ah must warn ye, I'm not very good with this technological advancement sort." Barney warned. "Just get it!" He cried, as the cell continued to blare. Barney reached for the cell, and fumbled clumsily to get it open. "What do ye press!? This contraptions a demon from the Scottish graveyards of Yorr!" He cried out in terror as the ring tone played tunes from outkast. Meanwhile, in the driver's seat, Shep began singing the lyrics. "Where you at the whole city's behind us! Where you at...!" he rapped.
Even more peeved, Johnny screamed at these unfortunate events, "Press send you fool!" "Aye, mister Johnny sir," Barney acceded. He then began listening intently to the voice of the caller. While this happened, Shep explained, "Hey did you like the ring tone? I saw it on a commercial and ordered it, now I'm eligible to meet one of the lead singers of Outkast!" he said enthusiastically, like a child who has won the chance to meet Harry Potter. Johnny saw this as yet another opportunity to smack sense into Shep. He slapped him once again while saying, "Qui-et you!"
They could hear Barney yelling loudly , "WHAT!? WHAT!? I CA-NNOT EAR YA! BLASTED PHONE IS A MENACE TO SOCIETY!" Johnny, not being able to take care of any more of this nonsense, withstood his pain and grabbed the phone from Barney. "You pressed end you fool! RAWG!" he cried in frustation. "Do I have to do every little thing myself?" he asked. He then re-dialed the number that had called. After a few rings, there was an answer. Unfortunately, at that very moment, Shep made an abrupt halt, which tossed Johnny, who was not wearing a seatbelt, forward due to Newton's Law of Motion. He hit his head on a windshield and was knocked unconcsious. "Sorry boss. Red light. I tried my best." Shep explained. Barns hesistantly picked up the wretched device, and flinchingly held it up to his ear. Luckily it was quiet. Barns began listening more intently, then all of a sudden, he cringed at the angry, but muffled screams that came back from the cell.
"Aye, Sir! Yes, sir" Barns conceded. In the meantime, Johnny was able to regain consciousness. "Eh, wha's goin on heah? Santer Claus....is dat you? I want a flame-trowah fo Christmas...." Barns then told him, "Tis best that we get back to the headquarters. The head boss'll have our heads on a silver platter if we don't best be headin back, dont ya know." With that, Shep forced his foot upon the pedal, flinging little Johnny back to the rear of the car, once again knocking him unconscious. They then drove off onto the interstate highway toward their so-called hideout.
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"Ah, we're finally out of danger," Tim said. We began to relax again, provided with the sleak comfort and smooth maneuverability of the white V6 Grand Am GT. We all sat back and relaxed, except for Steve of course, who had to drive. "Alright guys, we're headin' home," Steve assured us. Unfortunatley, his assurance was negated, once we saw another car chasing us. This time it was a black limo, with Kaitlyn Grimm's two guards at the wheel. "COME ON! DON'T WE EVER GET A BREAK IN THIS STORY!?" Tim asked, frustratingly. "Seems to me," Steve replied. "You guys have been doing a lot more crime "running" than crime "fighting."" He pointed out.
Stephen had a good point there, we never really did crimefight. We just ran. Then it hit me, we're all a bunch of cowards. Oh well, at least it's good exercise. "Well, might as well not break our running streak now." I suggested. "Stephen, step on it!" Stephen, obeying this command, revved the engine and sped down the road at 40 mph, for the traffic had not let up. "Darn traffic." Stephen honked the horn angrily. "Let's move people!" He yelled. Meanwhile, the black limo was gradually making its way toward us. As chance would have it, as the limo was closing in within 25 feet, the traffic began moving forward once again.
"Thank you!" Stephen cried, and he revved the engines once again and got rolling. "Alright, guys, prepare to be dazzled. See that intersection over there? I'm gonna be in there turning right so fast, that they won't know what didn't hit them!" We all gave blank stares to Stephen. "Just watch, okay!?" He said. He then sped up to high speeds, and controlled the steering wheel like a professional nascar racer. As the intersection grew closer, and the limo, further away, our hopes ran high. "Here we go!" Stephen yelled. He then slowed down to 35 mph. "Residential area." He said. Then as he was inching closer to the intersection he delayed even more, and put on his right turn signal. Tick-ta-tick-ta it went. In the meantime, the Bodyguard, Kelly, saw what was going on. "He's turning right!" he yelled. "What an imbecile!" the second bodyguard, Bob said. "Now why in the name of whoville would he want to let us know he was turning right?!" He wondered. Then Kelly realized something. "Oh I get it! He wants us to think that he's going right, but in reality.....he's going straight!" he reasoned. Bob pondered in his seat for a moment. "Kelly, you're a genius!" So they sped down the road, without a turn signal on.
Back in Stephen's car, Steve waited for the car before him to turn right. Tim then noticed the flashing light on the right side of the car through the side mirror. "Ah doggone it! Stephen, why in blazes did you put your right turn signal on!? This is ridiculous, we're gonna get pummeled for sure." Stephen, too focused on his driving, shushed Tim. "Shhhh!" He whispered. "Not while I'm driving." He then perfectly executed a right turn in the interesction, easing his way into the line of other cars before and after him, and turning off his right turn signal exactly one second after the turn. "Perfect!" he cried. "And the crowd goes wild!"
Now, back in the limo....Bob was speedily driving across the intersection as he watched the white V6 Grand Am GT slowly and perfectly turn to the right. "What the!? Kelly you moron! He wasn't planning to outsmart us after all!" Bob yelled angrily. Then, Kelly came to another profound realization. "No! I got it! He was tricking me into thinking that by turning his signal on, he would turn right, when in fact, he would not turn right, thus I, thinking he was going to turn right, would at the last minute, think he was planning the opposite, not turning right but going straight..." He was interrupted by a rude blast from Bob. "SHUT IT, KELLY! You schoolgirl." He muttered under his breath. At that very moment, pyronic rage filled Kelly's eyes, and his voice echoed throughout the limo, "YOU TAKE THAT BACK BOB!" And thus began a long brawl that would end with the car crashing into a fire hydrant, blocking all traffic for miles.
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We heard the screeching of tires and another crash, as we began to relax once again. But this time, we were a bit more fidgety. "Ah, we're..." Tim was interrupted. "Don't get your hopes up," I said. Tim folded his arms coolly. "Hey, what could happen? You heard that...it was a car crash, traffic will be blocked for miles!" He reasoned. "Finally! Something is going right for a change!" He smiled to himself.
Indeed, the car crash was a delightful sound to our ears. But unfortunately, our peaceful tranquility did not last, as was the normal case. We heard another chopping noise, like the one we had heard at Stardollars cafe. Tim laughed to himself. "Isn't that funny? That sound sounds like the chopper that landed on the Cafe earlier. Haha!" He was delirious. Dread crept up my spine. "Noo... no......It can't be......not more..." My fears had become reality. I looked up into the sky out my window and saw the familiar Westchester Copter hovering overhead, with Kaitlyn Grimm and her two other bodyguards at the cockpit. A small compartment on the front of the chopper slowly opened up. Then we could see a small black device being thrust out of it. "It's the end of the world. Bueheheheh! The end I tell you! THE EEEEEEEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNNNNNNNDDDDDDD!" Tim cried, in a very ADD-like state.
"Wut in tar-nashun is dat?" Bradley asked. His question was quickly answered. The cylindrical like object began shooting large bullets at the ground near us. "KILL THEM! KILL THEEEEM!" Kaitlyn cried in a very similar maniacal state to Tim's. Yes, it was a machine gun. "Why the darnell does Kaitlyn have a machine gun installed in her helicopter!?" Stephen wondered in disbelief. "Stalkers, I suppose," I supposed. While Tim was nervously convulsing in his seat, acting like a sugar-high squirrel, I kept my cool. "This is where you need to gun it, Stephen! Pun intended," I chuckled to myself. "This is no laughing matter!" Stephen began. "Wait a sec.....oh I get it now....buahaahahaha!" Stephen laughed heartily.
A charging bullet that penetrated Stephen's windshield ended the hearty amusement. "Die you fools!" We could hear Kaitlyn cry maniacally. "This isn't like her!" Stephen cried. "There must be some explanation!" Stephen deduced. "Face it! You know how actors are....unpredictable." I reasoned. Stephen zigzagged along the road, swerving to avoid our enemy's onslaught of attacks. Yes, we were enemies, for this part of the story. Kaitlyn smiled with glee as she pelted buildings, roads, mailboxes, cars, and street lights with bullets. People scrambled to find safe shelter from the blasts. We could hear screams of bloodiness ravaging the area. People who were unprotected dropped like flies in the desert. We made our way into the Japan/Chinese-like part of town. We could hear more screams and cries of terror, only they were in Japanese...or Chinese, I couldn't tell. We heard one man cry, "Kojiro! Kojiro!" in a terrified tone. Others cried something along the lines of "Kachaoe Chakoanaowa!" Tim, in his mentally ill state, began to translate. "They say.....destroy.....bomb! Destroy.....bomb! Explosion! Destroy! Annihilate! Annihilate! Ah yes, and Godzilla! Godzilla!" I looked at Tim warily, and spoke to him in a serious tone.
"Calm down, Tim! Don't panic! We're not gonna explode. We may get shot, but definitely not explode." Tim hit the door next to him. "You don't undertand....flahadanajana....!" He yelled, still fwapping the door. We zoomed through China/Japan, or "Chipan" town. Tim ill-mindedly, began reaching towards the door. Seeing this, I tried to stop him. "No Tim!" I cried. But he ignored me. He flung the door open, and it looked as if he was going to jump.....and end his life right then and there, or try to. But the move I anticipated was not a jump, but a reach. He reached out and grabbed something from a Chipan stand as we zoomed by. I could hear a Chipanese woman curse in her language. "Kung lao nochtakinach Tim Higher!" (Subtitle: Confound you, Tim Higher!)" she cried. My eyes glanced at Tim's hands, and in it, was a rather large fire cracker. Noticing this, I became anxious. "Tim.....put the fire cracker down...." I calmly stated.
Stephen looked back to see what was going on...."What the!?!? What's he doing with that thing? He's not lighting that in my V6 Grand Am GT! I don't have car insurance yet. Geico hasn't called me back!" It seemed as though Tim was in another of his trances, only he was chuckling to himself like a hyena. He smiled mischieviously as he lit a match. As the tip burned he held it against the firecracker. "Bombs away..." he whispered. At that moment, the flare ignited into the air and darted toward the helicopter, which was firing away like there was no tomorrow. "Dis is gonna be a mahty big blast." Bradley noted. After these words, the bomb burst in the air, exploding against the metal of the helicopter. A loud rumbling roared through our ears, and a great ball of fire erupted right before our eyes. "Gudness, grashus, grate bawls uv fiyer!" Bradley exlaimed.
The helicopter had parts chipped away, and the tail was badly damaged, but the rest of the craft was still intact. The helicopter swirled and swirled as it fell to the ground. And it crashed and screeched against the pavement of the Chipanese street, as chickens from a chicken coop clucked their way away from the scene. Pieces of metal flew about as the chopper skidded to a stop. We could hear loud sounds of crumpling metal reverberate into our ears. For seconds it lasted, until all came to complete deafness... Out of the dust and smoke, another Chipanese woman came out into the open. Apparently she was the one who owned the chickens. "Chi-chia-kong-chakanay Kaitlyn Grimm! Chianea-Okaeda" (Subtitle: Darn you, famous renowned actress, Kaitlyn Grimm! Stupid Americans!) she cursed in her native language. During this moment we had shielded our eyes from the disastrous view. We lifted our arms and scanned the area. A Chipanese police squad car came to the scene of the crash. Two officers climbed out and observed the broken helicopter. Meanwhile, the owner of the clucks began to complain. "Kachaia- Laodoanota-chakaniwa! Cheno katikan chakaniwa, chi-chia! (Subtitle: I want my chickens! Fetch me my chickens Darn you!)" She complained.
One of the officers replied in a calm voice, "Chochana katnita, chenosuwa. Cat-noben chialeto kutnesto. (Subtitle: Don't worry, ma'am, we will get your precious chickens. But human lives are more important than precious chickens. You must understand that.)" He replied. Although the four of us would have loved to see the outcome of this interesting Chinapes dialogue, we opted not to, on account of the wreaking stench of unbathed chicken and its waste. So hence, we sped away in the sleak, versatile V6 Grand Am GT.
