Dude, What the FFFF!!

by Vallis

Party Time: ...Buffering

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POV: Chris

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Shhhyyyeeeeeeeet. Have you ever gotten the munchies? I don't smoke weed, or anything really. I'm clean as a whistle, but hell, the munchies is strong with this one. I grabbed 5 taquitos, 2 bags of doritos, 4 glazed donuts, a bag of sour patch kids, a few monsters, a red velvet cupcake, a BLT, and... shit, I forgot a few other things. They're in my bag as we speak, I'm just cruising on my way back home. Since we're still on the topic, now's a good time to add that I fucking love eating. When I'm hungry, I stop at nothing. Period.

If you want me to do something for you, wait until I'm starving after 5 or so hours of no food. Then, offer me a 10 piece chicken nugget combo from Wendy's. I'll take down Fort fucking Knox, Ba Sing Se, you name it.

As I cruised through the neighborhood at moderate speeds with my left arm propping me up on the bike's gas tank, I pictured the chaotic fun my bro and I will be having pretty damn soon. Man, every visit has been a unique visit. I'm being very freakin' vague when I say "unique". Remember what I said about having a fun time with his stuff? Dude, he always brings some type of contraption along with every visit. We always "experiment" with his stuff, taking his devices along wherever we go to see where we could utilize it for maximum epicness, whenever the moment calls for it. Shit, you'll know what I mean in a few hours. Ah, here we are. Home shweet home.

I began to slow down, shifting down to first gear so I can pull into my driveway at the appropriate speeds.

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I tucked all my motorcycle gear back into the closet, save for the backpack of course. I mildly slam the bike keys on the corner of my computer desk, hoping to get the point across into the subconscious part of my mind. I swing my backpack over to the side of my computer chair, and plop myself onto the cushiony chair.

Couch Potato Mode: Engaged.

"Alright my tasty subjects, which one of you shall I devour first?" I gave a diabolical laugh as I looked inside my bag, rubbing my hands together. I quickly snatched a taquito, and pulled out a can of monster. I pulled the opening tab on the can, and took my first sip of the night. I gave a refreshing sigh, and bit off practically half the tacito.

"Alrighteh, what movie shall I watch?..." I spoke outloud with a mouthful. I snapped my fingers, and began typing on the key board.

"Ace... Ventura..."

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BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! SHIT!

I leapt off my computer chair, disoriented as I looked for my alarm clock. I did an overly dramatic dive to my bed, and faced the analog flip clock on the nightstand to my direction. Ho, shit.

"Well. Race to the airport. I'm down." I smirked.

I grabbed the keys to my '91 Vette, quickly slipping on a hoodie as I walk to the garage. Remember the Vette? The one my dad bought as scrapped and I fixed up? Also the one that I took to the track, and gave it a "few" performance upgrades? Heh.

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I shift into 4th gear, the V8 twin turbo charged engine rumbling like rolling thunder down the highway at its low cruising speeds. I took a quick glimpse at the speedometer.

"Yikes, 75?... I'm not going fast enough." I floored the gas, the speedometer sluggishly climbing up to 80. "Fuckin' turbo lag..." I mumbled. The second I mentioned it, the engine rpms climbed to the proper powerband, and the speedometer shot up to 120 within seconds. My back got firmly planted into the seat. "HOHO SHIT!" I shouted excitedly as the turbos began to whine extremely loud. The rear of the car swung to the right slightly, but I expertly gave small adjustments to the steering wheel, keeping it in balance. I forgot to mention that I haven't driven this car in a while.

I lifted my foot off the gas, the turbos shooting off its excess pressure through the blow off valves. I pushed in the clutch as I switched to 6th gear so the car could coast down at these high speeds without jolting around a lot. I held a huge smile, my face frozen in half shock, half excitement.

"Note to self.. lower boost, and readjust ECU mapping to more... civilized settings." I said as I chuckled to myself. I never really had the car set like this to race, it's impossible. But I just remembered a few months back when I was tinkering with the turbo settings. Fuck me, I must've been bored. I continued to laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. That stunt must've loosened my bowels.

Wait a sec. SSHHHIIIITTT. I think it really did. Those munchies were starting to attack, and it was something fierce. I grabbed my stomach, grunting uncomfortably.

"Ohhh, shit shit shit. Not now. FUCK THIS." I slapped the gear shifter back to 4th, although this time being more moderate with the gas. The turbos began to whine again as the engine note heightened in pitch. 120. 140. 150. 5th gear. 160. 170. I'm just asking to go to jail. But in complete honesty, I highly would rather not shit my pants. Plus what cop in their right mind would try and catch up with this monster? The road is empty anyway. Save for a few cars that are sitting in the right lane, each being about half a mile from each other or so. When I have to shit, I stop at nothing.

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POV: Joel

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I walked down the sidewalk outside of the airport looking for my bro's car, dragging along my luggage filled with pretty much all my clothing. I propped it up against the outside wall, and pulled out my phone, thumbing through my contacts list. I didn't see his car anywhere, and believe me, that thing is hard to miss. Sunofabeetch better not be sleeping. I selected his name on my phone, and began to type up a text message. Send.

J 'MODAFOKKA WAKE UP!!'

As if on queue, I heard the sound of a monstrous engine roaring from practically a mile away. This guy, I swear, is always epic with almost anything he does. I wouldn't be surprised if that was his car. It didn't take more than a moment for the engine to become increasingly louder, and what do you know? I crossed the street, and looked around the airports ridiculous twists of the road, looking for his bronified car. There it was, the electric blue souped up Corvette. The brony had the guts to paint his car after Vinyl Scratch's hair color scheme. Not that it was a bad thing. I watch a bit of mlp too. Not as much to call myself a real brony just yet though. I've only heard the music so far, and a few fan animations, which were all pretty damn cool.

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POV: Chris

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I slammed on the brakes harder than I meant to, causing the car to lurch into a screeching stop. I pulled the keys out, and quickly jumped out of the car.

"HAHA! Dude, wazzap!!" Joel greeted happily with his arms open. I gave him a quick hug, then speed walked off into the airport.

"What's wrong dude?" He shouted from behind, following along.

"Shit." I uttered.

"What?" He asked confused.

"Poop. Shit. Bad." I began to jog. "And it wants out, now."

"Oh shit." He laughed.

"Word." I snickered. "Watch the car please, I might be out of commission for a while." I pointed back outside.

"Gotcha." He gave a quick faux salute, and walked back outside. Ok, time to solve this maze of a building and find the bathroom. I looked around, people walking scattered allover the place. Fantastic. I looked for some type of employee, and found a janitor.

"Hey man, sorry. Bathroom?" I asked quickly, trying my best not to look like a fool that was about to shit his pants. He pointed over my head.

"Aaaaaall the way at the end of this hallway." He said.

Well. Fuck.

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Comments

[omega-ze-wargod]

[Vallis]

3205428 And may I ask, what is so funny?

[Xzaves]

3205546
Screw context!
(I don't know either D:)
((Bit rude if you ask me))

[Stanislas]

seem that your story started well

[Vallis]

3209248 It did man! I'm really pumped! Gives me all the reason to keep this story going!

I'm writing the next chapter as we speak. I'll probably post it some time around night.

[SliverBrony]

Nice Avatar reference. I personaly think that Fort Knox would be the easier choice.

[Therisinghero]

Spanish flea time