//------------------------------//
// Let's Get Dangerous. 
// Story: Screwed Up 
// by A friendly face 
//------------------------------//

Everybody freaks out, of course, as we stop in front of the hooligans. One of them walks up to the driver's seat. I would have put the resulting conversation here, but everything started getting really fuzzy. Kinda like when the dentist gives you the laughing gas stuff. The guy at the window started freaking out, then everybody in the car started freaking out, and before you know it, the shotgun toting psychos started running for the hills, Rory gunned it through the wooden barricade, and the song "through the fire and flames" started playing on the radio. That's when I blacked out.

5 MINUTES... YOU KNOW WHAT? NUTS TO THIS, I'M OUTTA HERE.

*Footsteps*

"(incoherent mumbling)sandwich(MORE incoherent mumbling)where did that narwhal come from?(FRIGGIN INCOHERENT MUMBLING)nickels and dimes."

And I say, "HEY."                                                                what a wonderful kind of day

"Oh, you're awake...hey."

"What? What's wrong?"

"You seriously didn't see that?"

"See what?"

"Well..."

...

Oh, that's right, time card guy stormed out in a huff.

Well, he explained to me what had happened while I was unconscious.

POV---->RORY

I was driving, when the magenta pony in my backseat said that we were being followed. I reassured her and leaned in to activate the makeshift spike strip I keep handy for situations just like this. Let's hope it doesn't blow out MY tires this time.

"Don't worry, watch this."

The strip deployed without a hitch. Score one for amateurs. As we drove away from the fuming redneck screaming at his car, we pulled up to about six or seven more fuming rednecks holding 12 gauges and protester signs. They said PAPA or some such annoyance. There was a humming noise coming from the backseat, so for my own safety and sanity, I turned around. The magenta one was glowing, and the one dressed like a french model was desperately trying to climb into the front seat. One of the protestors walked over to my window.
"Where's the pony?!"

"Huh? Oh,so-"

He got hit in the face with a Boston creme pie just as I was about to spout a witty retort. Well, that's when things got crazy. All the guys with guns pulled them on us, and the barrels bent upwards at a right angle like bugs bunny had gotten a hold of them. They started freaking out and one grabbed a handgun. He tried to fire, but all that came out was a little flag. I think it'd be safe to assume that it said "bang". All that time the humming noise got louder, and there was even the occasional pop and crackle. I turned around again and saw the Magenta pony was still glowing some kinda funny color, and the swirls in it's eyes were spinning wildly around. Then, some kinda chain chomp type thing appeared behind the car, and, not to be eaten, I gunned it. That Dragonforce song from GHIII came on the radio, and there was total and utter madness. It was raining sandwiches. Yes, you heard me right, sandwiches. With extra mustard.

Shortly after, there were flying narwhals soaring through the air around the car, playing chocolate ukeleles. Don't ask. After about twenty minutes of what could only be described as complete madness, the mare came to.

She wanted to know what happened.