Monday, November 22, 2004

Chapter 10 High Tide part 1

Word count: 936
Total: 19,013

Several blocks away from the mutant feline madness they came to a stoplight. As they were waiting for the light to turn green, another car pulled up beside them. It was a lowered 94 Ford Escort, with hydraulics in the front, and rims that kept spinning when it stopped. Behind the wheel of this car was a pale white teenage boy, who wore a baseball hat backwards. The boy was listening to a ubiquitous pop song, and he obviously had an expensive sound system, because everyone else at the traffic light could feel the thumping bass.

"Get a load of this fool." Imp said. "He thinks he's a real gangster, with that car. Doesn't he know that gangsters don't listen to Avril Lavigne?"

The boy was head banging, making the hand sign for the devil, and sticking his tongue out at Imp.

"I'll show this idiot what a real stereo sounds like." Imp said, and pressed a button on the radio.

Two stabilizing legs extended from each side of the Falcon, and pressed firmly on the ground. Next the trunk opened, only it opened backward from the way a normal trunk opens. Out of the trunk two large cylindrical speakers extended, pointing in the direction of the Escort. The speakers settled on the roof of the car, and were secured in place by two metal hooks, which extended from the hood.

Imp pulled a CD out from a holder on the sun visor and put it in the player. He then picked up the CB. His words boomed as loud as a demon with his balls caught in a door. "And now here's Aenema, by Tool. This one's going out to the douche bag in the Ford Escort. We all know your dad paid for that car douche bag."

The kid had a look of utter disbelief on his face. Imp pressed play, and the song began to reverberate through the streets. The black Falcon shook, staying it place only because of the stabilizers. The Escort slid sideways until it collided with another car. Its windows shattered, and with every beat it slid further away, along with the car it was now pressed up against. The song finished playing, the speakers retracted, and the Falcon returned to normal. Imp then ran the red light and sped off down the street.

The drove through down town, and stopped at a marina parking lot. When Imp got out of the car his black secret service outfit turned into an off white robe. His hair grew past his shoulders, and his shiny black shoes turned into earth tone sandals.

"We need to see a man about a boat." Imp said.

"Ok, Noah" Skip said.

They walked down the sidewalk and went through a glass door upon which the words "Maritime Nautical and Arc Construction" were etched. Inside there was a front office with a counter and a small waiting area. It looked like a doctors office, with calming neutral tones, and bland saxophone music playing in the background.

Imp walked up to the counter and rang the little stainless steel bell. A door opened behind the counter, and a prudish woman came out. She wore a fifties style flower dress with long sleeves, and a pair of ugly brown eye glasses with a small chain extending from the ear pieces.

"Can I help you?" She said in a high pitched nasally voice.

"Yes, I would like to commission an arc." Imp now sounded suspiciously like Charlton Heston.

"Fill out this form." The lady handed him a clipboard, and went back through the door.

Imp rang the bell again. The lady returned with a sour look on her face.

"Yes?" She said.

Imp handed the clipboard back to her.

"Sir, if you want to commission an arc, you have to fill out this form." She snarled.

"I did, why don't you look at it." Imp said.

The lady glanced at the clipboard with a sigh, and her look of annoyance turned to one of confusion.

"One moment." She said, and took the paperwork with her back through the door.

Several minutes later she returned with more paperwork.

"Your project will cost an estimated 6 billion dollars." She said. "We require an initial 10 percent down payment to begin construction. How will you be paying today?"

"Do you accept Paypal?" Imp said.

The lady just stared at him.

"Fine, I'll put it on my American Express God card. I don't leave heaven without it." Imp said.

He opened a pouch that was hanging from his robe and took out a glowing golden credit card. The face of the card was adorned with the American Express logo in the corner, and a picture of an old man with a flowing white beard in the center.

The lady swiped the card, and then handed Imp a receipt to sign. He signed it, and she handed him his card back.

"That's going to take about 3 days. We'll call you at the phone number you listed on the form when it's ready." The lady said and walked back through the door.

"What phone number did you give her? Do you already have a house in a city you just created not 2 hours ago?" Skip asked.

"No, I wouldn't want to own land in this dumpy city. We've got a suite reserved at the nicest hotel in town instead. Let's go check in, and then we'll get something to eat." Imp said.

"I didn't know you ate." Skip replied.

"Well, I don't have to, but there's this place I want to go..." Imp said.


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