Tag Archives: cars

The Casket

Standard
thecasket.jpg

Entry to this week’s Friday Fictioners! Image courtesy of Al Forbes

“The funeral procession starts tomorrow and you’re driving this?!”

“I’m placing John in the back-seat and taking the front wheel.”

“Don’t you think the chassis is a bit… gaudy?”

“It’s vintage and I think quite fitting to his instructions.”

“He did say that he wanted to be buried in style; I took it to mean well-dressed. Did you ensure an open-casket?”

“Open-casket? The entire automobile is the casket. He asked to be buried with style!”

Check out other works at

The Session

Standard
car.jpg

Entry to this week’s FFfAW! Sorry but went over the word limit this time 😉

“And then I saw myself in the rear view mirror of another car…”

“What did you see?”

“I was hideous! My front bumper lay torn, half drooping over one wheel like some appendage. Headlights shot to pieces, and my front hood… mutilated!”

“How did it make you feel?”

“The worst. Like I had been discarded, tossed aside into the rubble after so many winters had passed. That will never happen right, doc?”

“Can you describe the car that you saw yourself in?”

“Oh, it was shiny, modern, luxurious even. Maybe a black Mercedes. It never turned to face me.”

“How‘s the relationship with your mechanic?”

“He does a great job. Never had any complaints although sometimes he takes these photos.”

“And the relationship with your hosts?”

“Hmm. Sometimes I feel they don’t acknowledge me. Like I’m just a tool for carrying them from place to place. They don’t even offer to take the wheel from time to time… Always glued to their smart-phones as if eyes couldn’t bother to turn. And then there was the incident with the latte…  Left a stain for half a year on the back-seat until the mechanic finally pointed it out! Then he started taking pictures again.”

“I can see that you feel neglected, under-appreciated for your work, and resentful for not receiving any love after so much giving.”

“Yes, it just seems so unfair. Sniff…”

“I understand, but not everyone will be so reciprocating. Do you think it is fair to demand love when love is unconditional?“

“No… it isn’t fair either. What should I do then? Lower my expectations?”

“Get rid of them. But don’t stop yourself from giving out of gratitude. It may help to find some other clients in the meantime.”

“What about the mechanic?”

“Get rid of him.”

The Tag-Team

Standard

The crowd jeered, hurling rusted scraps and old rubble at Lewwie Boi.

“Drive you sorry excuse of a Guzzler!”
“Little station wagon lose control of her motor?”
“My wheelchair’s got more go than you!”

As Lewwie Boi took the punishment from the mob, Hitmen spun circles around him. The former tag-team duo had owned the demolition derby circuit but their partnership now hung on a knife’s edge. Hitman wanted glory and would execute in operatic fashion, dismantling his opponents one part at a time. Lewwie Boi simply did it for the money. Their aims were not mutually exclusive till today’s event when Hitman took Lewwie Boi’s girlfriend hostage.

“Let her go! And I’ll make sure not to cripple you too much”, spewed Lewwie Boi through the loudspeakers.

“Only if you can catch me in that matchbox turtle of yours!”, retorted Hitman with a maniacal tone.

Right when Lewwie Boi ignited his engine in full, a third truck explodes into the arena, fireworks and all.

“It’s Monster-Rig!!!”, the former tag-team shrieked between the frenzied cries of the crowd. “The undertaker has come for us. We gotta take him down now!”

But alas, the tag-team duo was no match against the monster-truck / big-rig hybrid. Goliath retired them to the junk yard.