So A Guy In A DeLorean Pulls Up...
I hate Thursdays. But first things first, my name is Declan. You probably won't know me, but then again almost everyone knows me and the only people I ever talk to outside of my house is my family, a dude from Africa and a guy with Warhammer on the brain. I always wear a coat and hat, I wear glasses, uh... not much else to say about me. Oh! I'm also a video gamer and a fan of sci-fi movies and TV shows. Apparently, my friends tell me that knowing what happens in every episode of Stargate Atlantis isn't healthy.
Where was I? Oh, yes...
I hate Thursdays. Thursday is the day I have to go get some stuff from the shops at the end of our road. It's supposed to be my day off from college, or 'study day' as the college staff call it, but instead of doing something worthwhile, I'm going to get a loaf of bread and four pints of milk. As usual, I walk to the shops in my coat, hat, jeans and trainers. And I decided to wear my Star Trek T-shirt today.
Could be worse I suppose. I find myself at Tescos already (way too convenient for me), and head inside after navigating the car park and glare at several drivers who don't know that they're supposed to STOP at zebra crossings, not plow on through and hope that they don't hit something.
Once inside, I check the list and grab a basket, then I head down the aisles looking for the items on the list. It all goes smoothly, avoiding a suspicious green puddle near the cheese selection, jump over the usual spilled sugar near the eggs, and wrestle with several old ladies over the last cheese and onion quiche. After liberating a carton of twelve eggs (that were miraculously intact for once), I head down towards the tills, and to continue the never-ending war with my 6th most hated thing in the universe: those damn self-checkout monsters.
I manage to scan and pay for everything and leave the place after an epic battle with the dreaded machines from hell, and start to head home. Just another ordinary day of my life.
At least I thought it was, until some guy in a 1980's DeLorean pulled up next to me as I walked and started talking. I hate talking with people.
"Excuse me, do you know the way to Ponyville?" the man asked. I did a double take and stopped to stare at him.
"Pardon?" I ask, confused at what he had asked. He repeated it again, and my brain tried valiantly to process what he was asking. Either:
1- he was looking for some kind of horse club or something.
2- he's off his rocker.
3- it's a code name for some military thing that I shouldn't know about, or...
4- he's doing some kind of joke that would make me look stupid.
I go for 4.
"Yeah, I know where it is. Turn left at the end of Stupid Lane onto Idiot Avenue and continue intil you reach the Moron 11. You can't miss it, jackass," I reply before walking off, pleased that I caught his little prank and turned it against him.
Unfortunately, he wouldn't leave me alone...
"No need to be rude, I was simply asking a simple question," the man said as he followed me down the road in the DeLorean. Dude, go away. Now.
"Well I don't know where it is, so go ask someone else," I reply grumpily, gripping the carrier bags full of shopping tightly as I pick up the pace.
"But I wanted to ask you specifically!" the man called out to me as he matched my pace in the car. WHY WON'T YOU GO AWAY?!
"And besides, I know how to get to Ponyville." What was the point of asking me if you bloody knew, idiot?!
"Why ask me if you know how to get to wherever you want to go?" I reply sharply as my frustration meter started to rise and my idiot-o-sensor went critical.
"I don't want to go there, I want you to go there! I thought that was obvious." Yeah, it is obvious. You're a pedophile, now fuck off before I call the men in blue.
"Well I don't, so go away or I'll call the police," I warn him, but he doesn't care at all. He stops the DeLorean and gets out. Waitaminute, he's getting out of the... uh oh.
"I can take a hint," he says as he pulls something from his trouser pocket. I attempt to turn to run away but I stay rooted to the spot in fear.
It's a gun! Or knife! Or grenade! Well, probably not the last one, but I was panicking! (thank you Halo and Call of Duty for making me paranoid about grenades.)
He throws it at me. I raise my arms to cover my face, which is stupid if it's a knife, and stupid if it's a grenade. It hits the pavement with a jingle. I cringe, waiting for it to blow up or something, but it doesn't.
I slowly lower my arms, the bags of shopping abandoned on the ground, to see a set of car keys in front of my feet. That's when my brain shuts down.
"Wha... huh... eh?" I gibber, as the man just shrugs.
"I was going to take you there, but I can't force you to go with me. So I'm giving you the power to go there on you're own," he explains. "All you have to do is get in, start the car, and drive. When you hit 88 miles per hour, you'll warp through time and space to reach Ponyville, or whatever destination you want. It's important that you go there, preferably some time in the next few weeks."
He's from the nuthouse, he has to be... would a sane and mentally straight person drive up next to you and start babbling about some shit that sounds like he copied it from Back To The Future? Nope.
"Who are you?" I ask him, which was wrong considering that my brain was yelling at me to run away, but I didn't.
"I'm God. Consider going to Ponyville a mission I'm giving to you." Then he walked away, down the street and into a side road. I just stare after him as he walks away. I hate God.
I wanted to just call the police or walk away, or both, but I didn't. I don't know why, but I picked up the bags of shopping and the car keys and approached the open door of the DeLorean. It looked like the time machine version in the Back To The Future trilogy, well not exactly. The outside didn't have the Mr. Fusion doohicky or the hover wheels, but the inside had a similar interior to the one from the movie.
But if this thing could get me to this pony-whatsit place, then why a DeLorean? And why 88 miles per hour? Geez, God has to make things complicated for me. It got worse when a police car pulled up behind the DeLorean and two officers got out and walked over to me.
"Is this you car, sir?" one of them asked. I shake my head slowly.
"No... some guy who called himself God said it was mine and gave me the keys," I reply.
"And what did this guy look like?" the other asked as he flipped open his notebook to take down a statement.
"Uhhh, God-ish?" the officer with the notebook wrote down the accurate description I gave him.
"And where is this guy?" the first officer asked.
"I don't know, he walked down that way," I answer, gesturing down the street with a hand and shopping bag. The one not jotting down everything I say walked down in the direction I pointed and looked around, before returning. The two of them walked a little away and talked to each other about something, before returning back to me.
"Would you accompany us to the station please, sir," one of them said. It sounded like a question to me, but the way the policeman said it made it more of a command or order.
"Why?" I ask, unsure about all of this. Why couldn't I have done the shopping during the weekend?
"We need to ask you a few questions regarding this stolen vehicle," the second replied.
Waitaminute, stolen vehicle? That guy knew it was stolen and gave me the keys, and now I'm going to get arrested for something another guy did. I can't go to jail, I'm sixteen! My mind goes into overdrive as I start to panic.
"Okay, but can you do one thing for me?" I ask the two policemen. They share a look, before nodding.
"Hold this for me!" I cry as I swing the two bags of shopping at the two policemen. The bags catch them in the stomach and chest respectively, sending them to the floor. I grab the bags and dive into the DeLorean, closing the door shut.
Okay, now what? I've just met someone calling themselves God, they gave me a movie prop, police shows up, they think I stole said movie prop, and I've just thrown a bottle of milk, a quiche, some potatoes, a bar of chocolate, some bread and a can of Sprite at them. Do I get out of this car and surrender myself to face charges which are half true, or drive away?
I floored it and drove down the road as fast as I can.
Sirens from behind told me that the police were following, probably fetching back up or something. I swerve down the suburban streets, narrowly avoiding pedestrians and cars alike. After a few minutes I saw a sign for the M42 and followed it, surprised that I could drive considering the last time I drove a car I nearly ran my mum over.
I pulled into the M42 with two or three police cars behind me. That little speed counter that told Marty how fast he was going before time travelling was ticking away on the dashboard, holding around 70 mph. I just passed a coach full of school kids heading somewhere, closely followed by the police.
Then I saw more police cars ahead on the motorway. They had me boxed in.
Normally I wouldn't do this, but for some reason, I just kept on driving. It was a weird feeling that I didn't like.
The gap between the police cars in front of me and myself was closing fast. I had to do something. Then I remembered that the God guy said that something would happen when the DeLorean reached 88. I had no choice but to do it. Well, I could've stopped, but I didn't.
The speed counter ticked to 75 as I pressed down on the acceleration pedal.
I had just passed the last car between me and the police cars in front.
80.
I was probably less than a few tens of meters away.
84.
I could just make out the license plates on the cars (I'm partially sighted, so what?)
86.
The cars were so close, I was tempted to hit the brakes in fear of a collision.
87.
I realised that I've passed the point of no return. I can't stop now.
88.
The front of the DeLorean was starting to push through some kind of barrier that flashed in the colours of the rainbow. I couldn't believe my eyes, this was actually happening! The bumber of one of the police cars was around two meters away. If this thing didn't do it's... thing, then I will be dead, or seriously injured.
Then the scene ahead changed. Instead of a motorway with a police car in front, I was in a forest of trees, heading straight for one. I opened my mouth and screamed a manly scream... who am I kidding? I screamed like a little girl watching a scary movie. I turned the wheel sharply to the left and just avoided it, to head straight for a wooden building.
I screamed some more, followed by the sound a DeLorean makes when it drives into a wooden building a a fast speed. It smashed through the wall and embedded itself in a large pile of hay, which cushioned it enough to stop it completely. Just as it stopped, an airbag inflated suddenly and appeared in my vision as my face decided to hug it a split second later.
After managing to force the airbag back into wherever it belongs (I still don't know how such things can exist), I opened and lifted the driver door of the DeLorean. I stumbled a little, looking around the building I was in. It appeared to be a barn, with nothing but hay in it.
"What. The. Fuck?" I mutter as I stared at the DeLorean, then the barn interior, then back to the car again. This can't be happening... am I in the past? What just happened? Why am I not dead yet?
I was broken out of my mutterings and severely confused state when two voices drifted in from outside. I heard them moving about just outside the barn door, then the sound of a lock being unlocked. The door opened...
...And two horses were framed in the doorway, one holding a lamp in it's mouth.
Fuck.
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Well, well, well. Looks like I found myself a diamond in the rough. Nice story so far son, I'll just keep reading then.
ya warhammer
may the emperor protect you and praise to the machine-god
Hooked me in in the first chapter, looking forward to wherever this story leads.
Excuse me for a moment... 1995 DeLorean? As far as I am aware the DeLorean was only constructed between 1981 and 1982.
Sorry about that. Back to reading.
As random as all of this is, it's actually pretty funny.
Wait, what do you mean it's not healthy to know what happens in every episode of Stargate Atlantis? That can't be right. The Stargate franchise is one of the best ones out there. My friends and I all thought it was perfectly normal to know all three series inside and out.
"You probably won't know me, but then again almost everyone knows me and the only people I ever talk to outside of my house is my family, a dude from Africa and a guy with Warhammer on the brain."
Looks like you meant to say "But then again, almost no one knows me"
was there a blues brothers refrence in there?
Interesting...
will read simply because Delorean is best Automobile
Hehe, don't we all sometimes.
...
Well then...
(ONTO CHAPER TWO!)
2607719 There is, no God.
Okay... Tesco. Fair enough. The M42? Is it even long enough to hit 88MPH?
Hes 16 and he goes to college?
3127389
More like he's 16 and he can drive in England? (Tesco, M42, "Mum"...) The age is 17 here
Another thing I've noticed: A LEFT-HAND-DRIVE DELOREAN?!
Oh...my...god...
"What is it, pa?"
"It looks like an airplane...without wings!"
3263093
DeLorian DMC-12 was made for both the north american and European market. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/DeLorean_DMC-12#Right-hand_drive_models
As for the rest of it, shrug.
This just got heavy!
A story about back to the future and a Stargate Atlantis reference, yea i'm following you for sure.
I'm hooked.
You had me at dalorean. I will keep reading.
So is 'zebra crossing' slang for railroad tracks or something? Or is this in an area where zebras would be an actual concern on the roadways.
3687002
Dude, Zebra Crossing = Pedestrian Crossing
A Delorean to magical talking horseland?
So fully complimented Daedalus-Class vs. Star Trek's Enterprise, TNG-era. Who wins?
2 paragraphs, that's all it took me to like and favorite this story
There are several occasions were you confuse your tenses. Other than that, tis a frolicsome read. The swearing might just be part of your vernacular or the character's, so I'll let it slide. I've only read the first chapter. I have to go cycle nine miles to work now. Happy writing.
The car is not running. He's tossed the keys - which makes it stop if it was going before.
He hasn't started it.
He jumps in and floors it.
Doesn't do much if he hasn't started it.
General police procedure is to stop someone with a car getting in it if there is any reason to suspect they may need to detain them.
Simple way to solve that the guy isn't bluffing..