The Dammitall Run!

DISCLAIMER: Daria and the cast are copyright of Viacom and MTV, any real life people are copyright themselves, any other fictional characters are copyright their respective owners, and everything else is…ah you get the picture.



Summary: Noah Barkman in association with Morgendorffer consulting has organised a race, but not just any race, it’s an anything goes, illegal, madcap race from Lawndale all the way to Seattle, now over a dozen vehicles manned by several of your favourite Lawndale lunatics (and a few others) are going to show just how much fun you can have breaking the speed limit (and numerous other laws in the process) and causing collateral damage.  There are thrills, spills, celebrity cameos and roadside chaos as they take part in … THE DAMMITALL RUN!

WARNING: Don’t try this any of this at home…it’s way more fun out on the freeway.


WARNING +1 there is a smidgen of strong language here and there in this fic, nothing major but this is just so I can’t say I didn’t warn you.


WARNING +2 Just so you also know, I may start playing fast and loose with continuity (which in layman’s terms means my research could have been better and I can’t be arsed to make sure I got it all right) also lack of knowledge of my previous stuff may lead to some confusion…actually full knowledge of my work will still lead to confusion so all it will mean is you may not recognise a character or two so what the hell.  Lets get this show on the road (you can groan at that pun if you want) before I put another warning in and keep us here all night.





Chapter 0:

Chapter 1:

Chapter 2:

Chapter 3:

Chapter 4:

Chapter 5:

Chapter 6:

Chapter 7:

Chapter X:

Chapter 0 – The Introduction/Prologue/bit where I stall for time by introducing everyone.


One day in Lawndale, a man named Noah Barkman got bored.  This would not have been a problem where it not for one small problem, Barkman was also a Rich man, and when rich people get bored…well things happen.


In this case the ‘recently 24 with more money than he knows what to do with’ head of Buzzdome enterprises; one of the Dot.Com industries to avoid going out of business because NO ONE has any clue what it does (and that included Noah); decided what he was going to do.


He would hold a race.


But not just any race.


As he sat in his luxury penthouse apartment at the ‘Le Grande Hotel’ (when your as rich as he was you could afford to live in hotels all your life) with the TV on in the background he contemplated his idea, where to race to?  California had been done before and since it was likely the race wouldn’t be strictly legal (in fact he was hoping to make sure of this…made it more interesting) he would want somewhere that the highway patrol wouldn’t be 100% prepared for.


But where?


As he leaned back in his chair and sighed in frustration at the thought of his great plan failing before it even made it to the first hurdle he heard a voice singing…


“But I don’t know what to do with those tossed salads and scrambled eggs…”


Looking at the TV he saw a location, in the form of a skyline with a prominent needle-like building he had his answer,




He reached for his phone and dialled the number of who would no doubt be the only consultant crazy enough to take on the job.


“Hello is that Jake Morgendorffer?  It’s Noah Barkman, have I got a proposal for you…”


“…They’re calling again.”



Within a matter of days the word had spread.


“Dude have you head?  There’s going to be a race…


            “…From Lawndale to Seattle, with a cash prize Mack Daddy…”


                        “…Don’t call me that, a prize of 1 million dollars I heard…”


And day-by-day the word continued to spread amongst Lawndale and the odd fragment got even further, Jake Morgendorffer had managed to take advantage of the impressive word of mouth publicity to avoid having to make any high-profile announcements of the event.  This was because the race’s legality had lived up to Noah Barkman’s expectation, so he and Jake had begun working together organising and planning the race in a way that attracted as little attention as possible from the government and other such inconveniences.


Jake’s wife Helen Morgendorffer; who would normally have filleted Jake with a spatula for taking part in such a stupid plan; had been won over by Noah hiring her as the legal representative by with agreeing to ‘sponsor’ her to gain that ever so elusive ‘Partnership’ she had been after with the prestigious law firm of Vitale, Davis, Horowitz, Riordan, Schrecter & Schrecter (Noah had correctly assumed that one of the reasons they never gave her partnership was because they where afraid of the company sign reaching lethal proportions).


This of course meant he could keep her out of the way under a mountain of paperwork all the time while he and Jake continued to organise the race (the promise of an ‘obscene amount of cash’ was what made Jake overlook the illegality of the race).  While at the same time people all over Lawndale began to make their own preparations.


In the only press release for the race Noah Barkman and Jake Morgendorffer appeared on the local news where Jake Morgendorffer stood up and proudly announced to the viewing public:


“Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, Children of all ages…always wanted to say that.  My associate Noah Barkman and myself will soon be running a no-holds barred, anything goes, cross country race from the ‘Le Grande Hotel’ in Lawndale to the ‘Paramount Hotel’ in Seattle the race is open to anyone, whoever is first to cross the finish line will net the grand prize of…” here Jake paused for both dramatic effect and also because he hadn’t breathed for a bit “ONE MILLION DOLLARS!” he let that announcement sink in while resisting the mysterious urge to break into a bout of maniacal laughter.


“That’s right folks,” Noah Barkman took over “One million dollars of my own money, I will also be paying for any and all fuel, food, drink and accommodation expenses for all participants for the first 24 hours of the race.  Also I will be providing accommodation at both hotels before and after the race for you all, that way all you need to worry about is the drive…after all that’s what counts here.”


“So come one come all” Jake stepped up again “to the ‘Le Grande Hotel’ to take part in one of the greatest races of the modern age, brought to you by Noah Barkman of Buzzdome Enterprises and Jake Morgendorffer of Morgendorffer Consulting” he let the shameless plug sink in before continuing, he had chosen a name for the race that would knock ‘em all dead and he approached the camera as he continued “we proudly present the DAMMITALL Run…”


In an odd twist of fate for Jake Morgendorffer, stubbing his toe on the news desk was possibly the best thing that could have happened to him that night.



Eventually the day of reckoning approached, and the ‘Le Grande Hotel’ prepared to make its mark on destiny.


Noah Barkman looked down at the hotel parking lot from his penthouse room; soon the entrants would be arriving to register and enjoy the complimentary catering on this eve of the Dammitall Run, Jake was a genius for coming up with that new name like that, much better than the piece of crap he was originally going to call it.


“Jake my friend I think we’ve done it” he said as he turned to his compatriot, there was something about seeing a man more than twice his age looking giddy and grinning like a school-kid with a new toy that gave him a sense of fulfilment, even if he lost all his fortune and wound up doing hard time he could at least take pleasure in knowing he had given another guy meaning in his life.


“Oh yeah Noah my man” Jake replied, there was something about seeing a man more than half his age looking giddy and grinning like a school-kid with a new toy that gave him a sense of fulfilment, even if he lost his business and wound up working at a box factory for the rest of his life he could at least take pleasure in knowing he had given another guy meaning in his life.


The two turned from the window and each took Martini’s from a passing waiter, as they drank they looked at the assorted guests they had up in the penthouse.  Noah in another attempt to make things interesting had invited a whole slew of friends and acquaintances (Jake was amazed at the amount of celebrities the guy knew) to observe the race and maybe even make a friendly wager amongst each other over who would win.


Noah looked up as a man with a very prominent Black moustache and a Chinese guy with a slightly above average nose approached.


“So Burt, Jackie, either of you two planning on laying some money down on any of our entrants tomorrow?”



While Jake Morgendorffer was up in the clouds mingling, his daughter Daria Morgendorffer was; naturally; more down to earth, this was because her and her friend/sidekick/confidant/alleged lesbian lover (but never more than once, Upchuck learned fast) Jane Lane where both sat at a table in the parking lot since her father had offered her 50 bucks to deal with the entrants…she hadn’t the heart to tell him Noah had already offered her 200 bucks to do the same.


“So Amiga, think anyone we know is going to enter this thing?”


“I’d like to say no but lets face it, the prospect of 1 million clams is going to be too much for most of the collective cretinous mass of Lawndale…and don’t get me started on the faculty, you think Mr DeMartino is going to pass this up?”


Jane didn’t reply at first, instead she simply stared at the horizon at an approaching cloud of dust, eventually a shape began to emerge that resembled a cross between a truck and boat painted in camo-colours.


“…Speak of the devil.” Was all Jane could say as they saw the driver of the bizarre vehicle Daria recognised as being a restored WWII D.U.K.W (also known as a ‘Duck’) stopped the vehicle and stepped out.


“GREETINGS Ms Morgendorffer and Ms LANE.”  The camouflage clad history teacher of Lawndale High spoke, “as you have no doubt GUESSED I am here to PARTICIPATE in this VENTURE.  I’m racer number 4 apparently.”


“Ah…” Daria replied as she quickly flipped through the collection of papers her father had given her trying to find the errant number “that would be…’Crazy Anthony’ I assume?”  Noah had insisted everyone gave a ‘code name’ of sorts to ‘make things interesting’.


“Very GOOD Daria,” he replied as he took the form she held out, “Now, WHERE is this COMPLIMENTARY CATERING I have been INFORMED of?”


Racer Number 4 – ‘Crazy Anthony’ – WWII D.U.K.W.



An ice cream truck pulled into the car park of the ‘Le Grande’ and stopped, inside it Michael Jordan Mackenzie sighed as he put the handbrake on.  He asked himself how in the hell he had been talked into this by the grinning goofball next to him.


“Kevin, run this by me one more time” he asked “so I can try and prove its not some terrible hallucination” he thought to himself.


“It’s simple Mack Daddy…”


“Don’t call me that, I’ve told you before”


“Saw-ree, anyway, we enter the race, win it, and get a cool half a million each…that’s like fifty thousand each.”


“Five hundred thousand actually but close” Mack replied with a trace of sarcasm in his voice “You see Kevin, I can understand the entering part, sure I could use the money” he then thought; “especially after I bought that motorcycle, what was I thinking?”  Then returning to speaking “But Kevin why are we in an ice cream truck?  You have a perfectly good Jeep and I swore I never wanted to be in one of these again.  So again, WHY?”


“Duh, that’s easy Bro, any cop stops us and we tell them that there’s a sick little boy in Seattle with not long to go, and his last wish is to have a bowl of ‘Tutti Frutti triple chocolate chip eggnog‘ ice cream…and we have the last tub left in the USA so we need to get it to Seattle before it melts.  Awesome plan huh?”


“Kevin by your standards it’s a stroke of genius” then the voice in the back of his head added “by everyone else’s standards its as likely as me becoming leader of the KKK”


Mack then took a deep breath and then prepared to ask the question he had been dreading before he went to collect the forms.


“Kevin…why do we also have this Orang-Utan with us?”


Racer Number 8 – ‘Bro and QB’ – Ice Cream Truck



In another part of Lawndale, a garage door opened to silhouette a figure that after he had opened the door stepped into the garage rubbing his hands in glee


“Oh it’s been too bloody long since I last got to let you out baby”


With that he dusted the cobwebs off his black leather baseball cap and removed a set of car keys from his pocket…





“Uh-oh Cops!”  Daria stated as a Mustang bearing the markings of a cop car entered the car park, however the two officers who got out looked a little odd, they where pretty young looking and their uniforms didn’t seem to fit.


A second glance at the car made Daria even more curious, it had no discernable markings identifying which city or even state it was from.  However when the two quote-unquote cops approached the table it all fell into place.


“Jennifer?”  Jane said in surprise before looking at the other cop “…’Shaggy’?”


The girl name Jennifer who was more well known as ‘the Burnout Girl’ put a hand over her face to hide the laughter as the young man who indeed bore a passing resemblance to the Scooby Doo character rolled his eyes.


“My name is Casey, is it that hard to remember that you can remember the name of some 70’s cartoon beatnik easier?”


“Heh, sorry” Jane snickered before continuing “So what number you two ‘Officers’ got?”


“10” Jennifer replied before glancing over her left shoulder, then sheepishly did so again with her right so she could actually see (one of the flaws of having hair down one side of the face) “so…you two like our disguise?  Anyone stops us we simply say we’re in pursuit of a bunch of speeders.”


Jane looked at Daria who shrugged “Better than Kevin’s idea” she then held out a form “racer 10, enjoy your stay…Officer.”


Racer Number 10 – ‘Shaggy and Burnout’ – ‘Police’ Mustang



“Upchuck how the hell did you convince Ted to help you?”  Daria asked with a hint of surprise.


“Ah my sweet Daria, the Ruttenheimer charm although most potent against the fairer sex does still extend to all humans so when it came to telling my companion here of the bevy of beauties we are sure to ah-ha ‘become acquainted with’ on this trip he leaped at the chance.  Number 12 if you please.”


“YAY We’re going to go on a road trip!”  Ted Dewitt-Clinton shouted in innocent excitement from the passenger seat of Upchucks ‘Love Machine’


Daria looked at the red-headed Ruttenheimer creature in front of her before grabbing his shirt collar and dragging him to face level “…He has no idea this is illegal does he?” she whispered in a way that was practically a hiss.


“None whatsoever, but he’s the best map reader in the school.”


“Upchuck I swear if you get that poor kid into trouble…”


“RRR Feisty, why Ms Morgendorffer I never knew you cared…”


Daria let go of Upchuck and glowered at him, “You’re going to go to hell for this I swear Upchuck.”


“Don’t get him excited, the place is full of loose women.” Jane commented before holding out a form and giving a sickly sweet grin “Racer number 12, have a nice day, do try not to choke on your breakfast you piece of stale vomit.”


Racer Number 12 – ‘The Love Machine’ - 1966 Buick Convertible; Wildcat



Elsewhere a pair of black Ford LTD’s where on the route to the ‘Le Grande Hotel’ however they where not planning on joining the race, their intentions were quite the opposite, for behind the wheel was former ATF Agent’s Flemming and Bork.


Agent Flemming gripped the wheel tight and glared at the road, this was his big chance to get back in the good books and get his position in the ATF back, ever since that ‘Highland incident’ where he and his men had used ‘excessive force’ on some god dammed hippy school-teacher he had been demoted down to the Government Traffic Alliance…which was just a fancy name (and a strangely amusing one to those damn delinquent teenagers) for being put on ‘traffic patrol.’


However with this ‘race’ that some jumped up Junior Millionaire had set up would be his shot at redemption, he was going to put a stop to this race, or at least catch a few of the Godless Un-American Degenerates who where taking part.


A small evil grin spread across his face as he thought of all those cavity searches Agent Hurley would be doing, he hoped she had a spare pair of gloves…


“Uh Chief…” Agent Bork said nervously as he glance at the rear view mirror “There seems to be a car coming up behind us, I think he wants to pass us…maybe we should let him…I don’t think he wants to slow down.”


“Nonsense Bork, when he sees we won’t yield then he’ll slow down” Flemming looked in the rear-view “…or he may decide to speed up” Flemming would forever deny that as they swerved off the road; to avoid what could only be described as a small red blur shot past; causing them to knock into the other LTD; and wind up in a ditch at the roadside; at no point did he ‘scream like a little baby’ as Bork would later claim.  However when the car did come to a stop upside down he did say something…


“Well I’ll be a monkey’s bare-assed uncle!”



“SWEET JESUS CLOVIS!”  Wasabi Yojiman Sakaguchi yelled as he looked out the window, how the hell had he been talked into this?  He was supposed to be the ‘sane one’


“Bro don’t you know that car looked like the sort used by G-Men?” the girl with an English accent sat in the back of the car asked the driver “You could have just run a bunch of government agents off the road!”


Clovis R. Lee-Daniels just tilted his head to the side and grinned at his green haired friend and younger sister,


“Heh, I know.”



“Hey Amiga, check out the fancy sports car…a Triumph Spitfire I think, looks like someone gonna do this race in style.”


Daria remained uncharacteristically silent, that car was worryingly familiar, and the driver even more so she thought as she got out and approached.


“Hey favourite niece” Amy Barksdale said as she approached the table “fancy meeting you here.”


“Aunt Amy?”  Daria was still slightly stunned “What are you doing entering this?”


“Seemed like a good idea at the time, frankly I’m surprised your not taking part, madcap racing’s a great way to bond.  Number 11 please.”


“Uh yeah, here you go” Daria handed over the form, she was still having trouble believing this, Jane was silent, enjoying seeing Daria in such a state.


“Thank you” Amy replied as she took the form “sure you don’t want to join?  You’ll feel left out” and with that she headed towards the hotel “Now I think I’ll enjoy the pool providing no ones driven their car into it yet.”


“…Jane what do you think she meant by being left out?”


Racer Number 11 – ‘Single Bored Female’ – Triumph Spitfire Convertible



The next to arrive for the race was a Lawndale High school bus which to Daria’s complete lack of surprise had the principal of the school at the wheel.


“Doing a little extra-curricular activity eh Ms Li?’  Jane smirked as the Principal along with Mrs Bennet and Mrs Morris approached.


“Of course Ms Lane, with the money from this we could afford that ‘Anti Satellite Cannon’ I always wanted for the roof.  Number 5 if you would be so kind.”


“Uh-Huh,” Jane handed over the form “You may want to get to the buffet now while you still can before Mr DeMartino finishes clearing it out.”


Racer Number 5 – ‘The Laaawndale Express’ – School Bus



“Oh I can’t believe my eyes.”  Jane said as she stared at the classic car with the old fashioned dressed man getting out.






“So are you hoping to buy a time machine with your winnings or something?”  Daria asked with mock sincerity.


“Who told you that?”  The retro-crazed boyfriend of Jane Lane asked shocked before realising she was being sarcastic “oh Ha-Ha, number 14 and make it snappy woman.”


Daria threw the form at the man and with her voice dripping with sarcasm “Do try and make it past the starting line wont you?”


Racer Number 14 – ‘Retro Man’ – 1957 Ford Skyliner



“GOD DAMNED SPEED FREAKS!”  Agent Flemming yelled as he hit the steering wheel of the remaining (yet slightly dinged) LTD, the other one had been busted beyond repairs and Smith had to be hospitalised after spilling his coffee on his lap, poor bastard, no one deserved to get 2nd degree burns THERE.


“Well on the plus side chief there’s still your back up plan, didn’t you say you had 2 guys on the inside?”


“Ah yes, I called in a pair of honorary ATF members who where willing to do so, I called in some favours to see that they got all they needed and entered them in.”



“What the hell?  Jane sat at the table flabbergasted as a large eighteen-wheeler trundled into the parking lot.


“Oh No…” Daria uttered as she saw the badly scrawled graffiti proudly naming the vehicle as ‘Deth Truk’ and had a number 7 scrawled on as well.  “Not them, anyone but them” her voice quivered as the truck cab’s doors opened and a pair of young adolescent males climbed down…that or a pair of shaved monkeys.


“Uh huh huh huh, this is gonna be cool, Hey Dia…I mean Daria.”


“Jane when this is all over, remind me to poison Dad’s martini.”


Racer Number 7 – ‘B&B’ – Eighteen Wheeler.



After the two idiots had left with the threat of violence from Daria (her boots and a pair of grapes from the buffet helped to illustrate the point.)  They where able to deal with the next entrant, and it was a good thing they had gotten rid of Beavis and Butt-Head


Jodie Landon and Brittney Taylor where stood patiently at the table, both wearing a pair of zip-up bodysuits that made them look like something off of a 70’s adventure series.


“What are you doing here Jodie?  Your parents think this would be good for the college applications or something?”


“Believe it or not yes Daria’ Jodie replied with a sigh “and my empty-headed friend here” she said as she motioned to the; distracted by something shiny; Brittney “is coming along so she can prove a point to Kevin or something.”


“Why am I not surprised, so your dad let you borrow his car for this?”




“Even better.”


Racer Number 13 – ‘Girls on The Edge’ – Jaguar XJ Sedan



“Wow they actually made it.”  Jane said in surprise at the sight of the beat up black van that gradually made its way into the parking lot.


“Jane…please tell me that’s not ‘The Tank’ I see before me.”


“Indeed it is, they figured they’ve toured enough to be able to endure a race…I guess Nick was putting our calendar forward every few days for a reason after all.”


“Think we should point out that they seem to have gotten into ‘The Tank’ as opposed to say, an actual vehicle?”


“And spoil the fun?”


“I guess…guess I can be glad my sibling wont try entering this idiocy.”


They watched the band start bickering about where to park while Jesse came over to no doubt collect the form.


“Hey, we’re racer number…” Jesse paused for a while, lost deep in thought “what comes after 1 again?”


Racer Number 2 – ‘…But we’re Thinking of Changing Our Name’ – Chevrolet van



“Janet is this really wise?”


“Can it Skinny,” Janet Barch, nemesis of all male students of Lawndale snapped “With this money we can afford a proper wedding and honeymoon.”


Timothy O’Neill found himself unable to recall ever actually proposing to Janet but decided not to question her; he liked his ability to eat solid foods, something he was putting to good use in the hotel restaurant, after seeing what seemed like over half the faculty (and several students he also noted) stuffing their faces he decided to follow suite.


“All the same Janet, is your choice of vehicle wise?”  He asked between mouthfuls of tofu “I mean…a monster truck is going to stand out a little after all.”


Racer Number 6 – ‘Man Crusher’ – Monster Truck



“…What was that you where saying again Daria, something about your sibling not entering this race?”  Jane asked her friend while trying to hold back her laughter at the sight that approached.


“I was hoping the idea of not being able to carry all their clothes with them would discourage them,” Daria said as she put her hand over her face, “I suppose I underestimated the effect 1 Million dollars can have on a persons ability to secure suitcases to a car.”


The cause of these bizarre utterances from Daria and Jane was the sight of the Fashion Club arriving in Linda Griffin’s (no doubt borrowed without her consent) Mitsubishi that had the entire back seat piled high with suitcases and clothing bags…in fact poor Tiffany Blum-Deckler had no choice but to sit on top of the pile of bags.


“Why do I suddenly have the Beverly Hillbillies on my mind?”


“Frankly Jane I’m more worried about what’s gonna happen if they put the top up on that thing, Ugh Mom is gonna kill her if she finds out…good thing she’s been in her office for the past 6 days running.”


Racer Number 9 – ‘The Fashion Mobile’ – Mitsubishi Eclipse Spyder



Amy Barksdale had finished checking into her room and had gotten changed for a relaxing swim before getting some dinner.


However her plans where interrupted by a hearse of all things flying through the terrace and making a pretty impressive jump which ended in a crash landing into the pool.


Two gothic looking teenage girls, one with black hair and one with red hair surfaced and leaned on the side of the pool looking at each other.


“You know Scarlet I don’t think we’ll be able to compete.”


“Somehow Andrea I think your right, guess we shouldn’t have chosen now to test those nitrous boosters…maybe we should fish that out?”


“Yeah I guess your right…lets go get a beer first.”


Amy watched the two soaked Goths climb out the pool and nonchalantly walk to the bar, she then looked at the pool that was now occupied by a (hopefully unoccupied) hearse.





“You know I guess it was obvious that if the Fashion Club where involved then their cronies would soon be along as well.”  Daria observed as she watched the Three J’s arguing at their car, “But I must say I’m curious as to why your involved Robert, care to enlighten me?”


“Yes Ma’am, I’m in it for the money, plain and simple.”


“Good man, Racer 12, if you can shut those three up then have a nice day.”


Racer Number 12 – ‘The Yes Ma’am’s’ – 1994-1998 Ford Mustang Convertible



Leaning back at the table Daria sighed, she had been sat out collecting entrants for what felt like all day, Jane had gone to fetch a pair of sodas since sitting on your ass making sarcastic comments to people all day is thirsty work.


She looked at the remaining forms, they where down to 3 more to go, although it seems number 16 had dropped out after crashing into the pool, maybe they could find a replacement or maybe they’d just have to be last place by default, who knows.


As she heard the sound of another car arriving she looked up at the sky and let out a long sigh, her father was co-organiser of an illegal cross country race, her sister was entering, so was her best friends brother, her mother was working away in the office for the legal aspect of the race, what next?


“Daria?  What are you doing here?”


Daria jerked so suddenly that she nearly fell out of her chair at the familiar voice, she found herself looking at a young man she was very familiar with.


“Tom?  What are YOU doing here?”


“Isn’t it obvious?”  He asked as he pointed to the rusted Jaguar he had parked nearby, “I’m entering the race.”


“What?  Why?”


“Well I hate to sound the stereotypical bored rich guy but it seemed like fun and I could use some excitement, in fact I think I was one of the first people to sign up, that’s why I’m Racer number 1…here’s hoping that holds true at the finish line eh?”


Daria remained silent for a while until she finally spoke up “Tom why the hell are you wearing a tuxedo?”


He laughed lightly as he looked at himself, indeed he was wearing a tuxedo, “I thought if I was going to infuriate my parents I may as well do it in style, don’t suppose I could convince you to join me on this little jaunt?”


Racer Number 1 – ‘A Guy Called Sloane’ – 1968 Jaguar 420G



Jane returned to the table with two cans of soda and stood in surprise to see Tom Sloane in a tuxedo of all things stood at the table.


“…don’t suppose I could convince you to join me on this little jaunt?”


“Daria!  You’re entering without telling me?  How could you?”  She said in a mock over-the-top manner.


“Very funny you two, Tom no offence but I’d need a VERY good reason to be talked into doing something as outrageously stupid as this.”


“Oh come on.”  Tom replied grinning “You make it sound like only a bunch of lunatics would be entering this race…”


He found himself cut off by the sudden emergence of a bright red original mini cooper; with a union jack painted on the roof; which burst into the car park and begin to spin wildly before tipping onto its side and flipping over Tom’s car and landing perfectly in the space between that and Robert’s Mustang without a mark of damage.


The driver’s door opened and a man dressed all in black with a long braid and black leather baseball cap emerged grinning like a complete lunatic.


“Liiiiiiiiike a Glove!”  Clovis yelled ecstatically “see Waz, told you my driving skills hadn’t gotten rusty.”


Wasabi emerged from the car looking as green as his hair, he looked about ready to respond before jerking suddenly and running into the hotel with his hand over his mouth.


“Bloody amateur.”  Clovis rolled his eyes as a girl looking very similar to Clovis got out the back, “Come on Carlotta, better get registered.”


Daria, Jane and Tom had watched the scene with their mouths hanging open, eventually Daria turned to look at Tom who grinned nervously.


“Like I said, a VERY GOOD REASON.”


Racer Number 3 – ‘The J-Men’ – Original Mini Cooper.



Jane handed the forms out to Clovis and Tom who took them and then proceeded to talk to each other about their race strategies…or lack of in Clovis’s case (Unless you call ‘drive real fast and don’t brake for anything’ a strategy)


Daria on the other hand was sat with her head laying flat on the table, obviously the number of people she knew who where showing a complete lack of common sense or sanity by entering had gotten to her.


A shout of “OI!”  From Carlotta Lee-Daniels who had emerged from the reception got her attention however;


“Phone call for Maria Dorgendorffer…I’m assuming they bollocksed your name up.”


Daria sighed once more before heading to the reception…only to find the actual Maria Dorgendorffer on the phone.


“What are the odds?”  She muttered before turning to leave as a phone rang behind her she heard the receptionist call out


“Ms Daria Morgendorffer?”


Turning round Daria approached the desk, narrowly avoiding a guy in a suit who looked like Robert Stack as he ran to the bathrooms, there was something oddly familiar about him but she shrugged and headed on.


“Hello?”  She asked as she took the phone, and then held the receiver away from it as what sounded like her mothers voice came screaming through the phone, something about asking what she and her father where thinking letting Quinn enter and a bunch of other stuff, from the sound of things all the work had caused her mother to temporarily go insane (at least she hoped it was temporary, her mother was threatening to see she got 5 years solitary confinement)


Quickly she grabbed a brochure from the rack on the reception and held it to the receiver “Sorry Mom can’t hear you, the lines funny…” and with that she proceeded to crinkle the paper before hanging up.



Meanwhile outside Jane was manning the table in case the substitute racers Noah had hired in case someone dropped out would be able to turn up to replace team 16, albeit there was little chance of such happening but at least she got to watch Clovis, Tom and Wasabi’s antics.


“Clovis why have we got a shovel in the trunk?”


“Oh no reason.”


“Wait isn’t Bruce Lee buried in Seattle?”


The sudden outburst of “WHAAAAAAT!?!”  Startled the middle aged man who was approaching the table, Jane recognised him as the man who had gotten out of a black Ford LTD after some Robert Stack look-alike ran into the hotel.


“Can I help you?”  Jane asked, not taking her attention off of the sight of Clovis and Wasabi arguing about whether or not they could find out how Bruce Lee really died.


“Err yes,” the man replied, still taken aback by the sight of the two madmen arguing, he had been told by Agent Flemming to see about apprehending anyone involved, “I’m Agent Bork and…”


“Ah excellent we heard you would be here,” Jane said as she idly filled out a spare form “so your disguised as Feds are ya?  Nice one,” she handed over the form to him “have a nice day.”


“But…” Bork was about to reply but was unable to when an auburn headed young girl ran out the hotel and grabbed the arm of the girl in front of him.


“Jane we gotta get packed,” Daria said before shouting “Tom, you got your very good reason.  Remember the race starts at midnight.”


Bork was about to try and say something but at this all the youngsters in the car park vanished from sight leaving him standing outside on his own with nothing but a form.



Agent Flemming walked out of the hotel washrooms, zipping up after completing his duties and narrowly avoiding a bunch of youngsters rushing past, damn delinquents he thought before taking a deep breath, getting worked up always triggered his IBS.


He walked outside to find Agent Bork stammering confused with a piece of paper in his hands.  As Flemming approached he saw what appeared to be an entry form for the very race he had set out to put a stop to…


“BORK YOU IDIOT, I’LL HAVE YOU…OH GOD…” with that he clutched his stomach and went running for washroom again, “WE’LL TALK ABOUT THIS LATER…” he was heard to shout.


Bork looked down at the form and then at the hotel entrance, “Where’s the bar?  I need a drink…scratch that, lots of drinks.”  He said before he walked off.


Racer Number 16 – ‘The Feds’ – Ford LTD


End of chapter.

Chapter 1 – Let the Games Begin.


With less than 3 hours to go the participants found themselves preparing for the race, each in their own way.


Amy Barksdale relaxed in the hot tub.  She would have gone swimming but they still hadn’t been able to remove the hearse.  The owners where still in the bar and in no state to be of assistance.


Both Mack and Jodie spent their time observing the maps and planning their route’s, while Kevin tried to teach the orang-utan to play drinking games…the orang-utan drank Kevin under the table.  Brittney was last seen heading off with a guy who looked like he had stepped out of a time slip.


Anthony DeMartino spent the entire night loading his DUKW up with as much free food as humanly possible then did the same with his stomach.  The rest of the faculty did pretty much the same.


Casey and Jennifer finished perfecting their cover, soon Officer Reynolds and Officer DeLuise where ready for active duty.


The Fashion Club did what they do best (second to eating carrot sticks) and enjoyed the attention of the three J’s and anyone else for that matter.


Robert watched before repeatedly hitting his head on the bar and wishing he hadn’t quit smoking.


Beavis and Butt-Head loaded their truck with as many rolls of toilet paper as was humanly possible before asking an important question:


“Hey Beavis this is like a really long drive, don’t we need like food or something?”


“Ohhhh Yeah…heh he heh…Lets get Nacho’s.”


While they went off in search of blessed corn chip snacks Upchuck found himself wishing he had not put Ted in charge of food


“Ted dear boy, didn’t you get anything besides a crate of gum?”


Mystik Spiral did what did best, slept…a lot.


Barch and O’Neill…well I’d rather not go into detail of that.


Agent Flemming cursed whoever used up all the toilet paper.


Agent Bork drank drinks…lots of drinks.


Daria and Jane packed whatever possessions they had brought with them and found Tom at a table in the reception; looking at a map with what appeared to be a phonebook in one hand and a cell phone in the other.


“Tom what are you doing?”


“Making race preparations,” he replied while entering a number into his cell phone before taking a pencil and marking something on the map “I’m getting the number of every pizza place that delivers or does drive through that I’m likely to pass on the route.”


“Finally someone who knows what their doing” Jane commented “Mind if we put our stuff on the back seat”


“Go ahead” he tossed the keys to the duo “Just be careful out there, THOSE THREE are doing a supply check…”


The ‘THOSE THREE’ (Note capitals) in question of course turned out to be (as usual) Wasabi and the Lee-Daniel’s siblings, they where loading up the Mini (referred to as ‘Vera’ by Clovis for unknown reasons.) as Daria and Jane passed they overheard the following snippets”




“Check…and I don’t want to know what you think we need that thing for.”




“Touché, and check.”


“Rock music?”


“Hell yeah that’s a check.”




“If by that Clovis you mean 3 packets of beefy jerky, a box of instant noodles and several thermos’s of hot water then check.”




“Yes although I’m not sure that energy drink is even legal in this country…and the fact there is a can of diet cola worries me what with your…condition.”






Carlotta detached herself from the ensuing argument about how cool an ornament of a certain martial arts legends skull would make as she approached Daria and Jane,


“So you two joining in as well I take it?  What changed your mind?”


“My mother seems to have snapped at last, I figured it would a) be wise to get out of town and b) if she’s serious about the 5 years solitary then it may as well be for something more than just handing out forms.”  Daria neglected to mention c) keep an eye on everyone because she knew she would never live it down (Jane would see to that.)


“I’m just going along cause Sick Sad World are gonna be doing a special on this and I can fulfil a life fantasy” Jane added with her usual smirk.  “Being involved in a hit and run on live television.”


Daria rolled her eyes as she put her and her friends bag on the back seats of Tom’s car, here’s hoping that Tom could stand being in a car with those two for the race’s duration without throwing them out.  Of course they could always do the same…if it wasn’t for the fact no one but him knew how to keep that car working.


The two left as Carlotta returned to restrain her two slightly unstable friends from trying to kill each other.  They saw Tom getting up from the table he was at, a folded map in his pocket.


“Well I finished my research” he spoke as he took back his keys “we got another hour or so till midnight so I’m going to catch a few Z’s till then, I’d recommend you take care of anything else that needs taking care of.”


As she watched him leave Daria decided she should at least let her father know her intentions and headed to reception to dial Noah’s penthouse.



“Hello?…” Noah Barkman answered the phone “Oh hello Daria, how goes the form collecting?… all in?  Excellent…that’s not what you where calling about?…you want to speak to your father?  One second let me see.”  He looked away from the phone “Hey Jake, phone call…”




Noah watched Jake attempting to down the latest beer bottle in a long series before he collapsed face down on the floor.


“Sorry Daria he’s busy…yes, as a skunk…want me to give him a message?… you’re entering the race?  Excellent, makes it more interesting…don’t worry I’ll be sure to tell him once he recovers…of course you can have a copy of the photo’s of his face.  Bye”


With that Noah hung up the phone and walked over to the now comatose Jake Morgendorffer, he looked at the elderly gentleman who had drunk the man under the table.


“And ‘Stan The Man’ remains the undefeated ‘chugmeister’ although I’m surprised you went easy on him.”


“Well with great power, comes great responsibility…”


“Somehow I knew you’d say that.”



Close to midnight all 16 vehicles where lined up at the starting line…or as close to a line as can be gotten with the assorted vehicles that crowded the car park (Agent Flemming had decided it would be easier to allow the race to start and arrest all the competitors on the way…mainly as Bork was too drunk to be of assistance and he was still recovering from having to use that magazine…the less we know of this the better.)


Most of the participants where stood in a crowd where Noah Barkman took the stage, Daria; amongst the crowd; would have been expecting it to be a long stream of tech speak buzzwords and little substance, however the contact she had with Noah since he and her father had begun this joint-venture had shown that the young head of Buzzdome Enterprises was more than the ‘dot-com stereotype’ he allowed people to think he was.


In a way he reminded her of Mr. Dolphus Raymond from ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ with the way he allowed people to assume his nature, but in Noah’s case it meant he was able to hide his actual business skills behind a wall of fancy buzzwords and a ‘hip and edgy appearance’ which had allowed him to make a fortune out of a company that did practically nothing.


There, now I’ve gotten the literary reference out the way and this is disguised as an ‘intelligent fanfic’ I can proceed with whatever I want whether it be low-brow humour, explosions, or just plain crazy acts of idiocy, now where was I?  Ah yes, Noah’s speech:


“Ladies & Gentlemen…and I use the term loosely.”  There where a few obligatory chuckles to the opening line, “it is with great honour that I welcome you to the first annual Dammitall Run…and if I can help it this won’t be the last.  You being here has filled my heart with joy, for before me I see the best assortment of freaks and miscreants I have laid eyes on…and I worked in computer support.”


Again there was another burst of laughter from the crowd, “as you all know the destination of this combustion-fuelled crusade is the Paramount Hotel in Seattle; so please, no one take a wrong turn and wind up at the top of the Space Needle; now all of you entrants have been issued with a nifty little gadget in the form of one of these:” with that he held up a small business card sized device with a blinking light


“This little fellow will be monitoring your progress, from the moment you cross the starting line to the exact nano-second you pass the chequered flag.  As long as you keep this intact it doesn’t matter how you cross the line, it can be in your own vehicle, someone else’s vehicle, heck a pogo stick or a space hopper even as long as you get there its what counts…oh and they will be monitoring altitude so don’t go trying to fly and spoiling the fun, ain’t gonna happen.”  Noah waved a finger as he said this.


“So there you have it, you’re all here because you’re the kind of people who want some fun, money, or both, and are willing to say Dammitall to the consequences” He said as he looked at the clock that was ticking down the seconds at 11:59 “so without further ado, the moment that clock hits midnight I want you to get in those cars and drive like there’s no tomorrow, ready, set…” As the final second ticked down and a klaxon sounded he punched the air “THE RACE IS ON, GO ON AND GET THE HELL OUT THERE!”


With that everyone ran for his or her cars.



“I still can’t believe I’m doing this” Mack said as he buckled in and revved the engine “all this for money.”


“Bro we ain’t doing this for money.”


“We’re not?”


“Naw…we’re doing this for a shitload of money!”


“Kevin” Mack replied with a grin “for once I agree with you.”



Clovis somersaulted over the adjacent car and went through the open window of ‘Vera’ landing in the drivers seat,


“It’s a bloody long way to Seattle,”


Wasabi got in the passengers seat,


“We’ve got a full tank of gas,”


Carlotta the back,


“Half a CD rack’s worth of rock music,”


They fastened their seat belts as Clovis revved the engine.


“Its dark, and I’m wearing sunglasses…HIT IT!”


“Just remember one thing Bro” Carlotta added…


“Over here they drive on the wrong side of the road.”



Anthony DeMartino didn’t utter a good quote or anything similar as he started his vehicle up, he just laughed maniacally as he drove on…




Didn’t I tell you?



“Uh Huh Uh Huh Huh This is gonna be cool…”




“Care to make a wager ladies?” Upchuck leered over the side of his car at the Fashion Club “Whomever makes it to the finish first has to pay for dinner?”


“Like keep shifting you’re gear stick Upchuck ‘cause that car is gonna be the only ride you’ll be getting.”



“Ready Jennifer?”


“Yeah Casey, lets show them that we’re more than just background characters.”




“It sounded cool, just drive…can we use the siren?”



“Ready to hit the ‘Highway to Hell’?”


“As long as we got ‘Wheels of Steel’ then of course.”


“Don’t you mean ‘Wheels of Fire’?”


“Whatever, we’re ‘Hell Bent for Leather’”


“Just ‘Hit the Road Jack’”


“Dude that’s Nick…”


“Whatever Jesse, it doesn’t matter, ‘He’s Going the Distance’”


During all the ‘song-tag’ between the other three Max closed his eyes and repeated his mantra:


“Here in my car, I feel safe and secure…”



“See you at the finish line boys” Amy Barksdale said to the car of schoolboys as she left them eating her dust.


“Dude she looked like Quinn’s sister or whatever…”


“Maybe it’s her real Mom?”


“You mean she really was Quinn’s cousin?”



“You ready Jodie?”  Brittney practically squeaked with excitement.


“Of course Brit” Jodie replied as she looked at the school bus next to her, “Maybe I can finally live out my secret fantasy of running Principal Li off the road…”


“What did you say Jodie?”


“Oh nothing, lets go…”



Nathan honked the horn of his car angrily,


“Come on” he yelled at the large monster truck blocking his path.


“You’re in the way, move it you dumb broad…”


There is just no helping some people is there?



“Ready Skinny?” 


“Not re…”


“Excellent lets go.”  Barch replied not letting O’Neill get a response.


“Janet you appear to be in reverse…”


“I’m well aware of that.”


“Janet there’s a car behind us…”


“Like I said Skinny, I’m well aware of that.



“Wow.”  Jane said as she watched Nathan dive out the classic car as it was crushed under the wheels of Barch’s aptly named ‘Man-Crusher’


“Check it out Daria, the guy couldn’t even manage it past the starting line after all.”


“Guess people just can’t follow instructions.”  Daria replied, “Tom are you going to start this race or fiddle with those gloves all night?”


“Patience my dear Daria” Tom replied as he finished putting on a pair of leather driving gloves “if you insist riding with me you must permit me these one or two indulgences of my ego.”


“Tom knock off the fancy talk and start driving before I phone my mother and tell her you kidnapped me.”


“Aw, come on Daria, you know with things like this it ain’t what you do, its how you do it,” Tom replied as he rolled his eyes “You sure you got everything?  I don’t plan on making any bathroom breaks for at least a few hours so I hope you’ve taken care of everything…unlike that guy.”


The ‘that guy’ in question was someone in a fancy G-Man style suit running to a slightly dented LTD with a long stream of toilet paper trailing from his foot.


“Words fail me, …Anyway” Tom continued as he started tapping the steering wheel with his fingertips “I think its time we blow this scene, get everybody and their stuff together…OK 3 2 1 lets jam.”


With that he like all the other racers floored the accelerator and shot off with the destination of Seattle in mind.



Noah Barkman watched the 15 vehicles head off into the night, good thing no one betted on that 40’s retro guy, the first elimination (which judging from the entrants wouldn’t be the last) had happened a lot earlier than planned but at least it made things more interesting…and it was then he realised how much he had been using that word.


Shrugging to himself he felt the feeling of pride well up in him as the knowledge that the race he had organised had started.  Whether it would finish would be another question but one he looked forward to answering.


He glanced back at the penthouse where the party was still going strong, come the morning him and most of the entourage would head to Seattle where they would no doubt watch movies. Gamble, play video games and drink copious amounts of alcohol until the race ended.  Sounded like a plan.


“Heeeey Noah my man…” Noah turned to see a very drunken Jake Morgendorffer approaching; he had somehow acquired a traffic cone and was wearing it on his head in accordance with the laws of drunkenness.


“Hello Jake.”  He replied, as he readied the digital camera in his pocket, after all a promise is a promise.


“Have youshe seen my daughter Darla…DARIA!  Round here?”  He slurred at the white haired grinning face before him.


“Jake I doubt that KFC bucket is going to be much help” Noah attracted his sozzled associate’s attention, “and as for Daria don’t worry she’s in the same place as the other one…Quinn right?”


“Uh-*hic*” Jake replied as he tried to figure out which of the three Noah’s was real “Where’z that then?”


“She’s…” Noah continued speaking as he simultaneously drew the camera “entered the race of course, she’ll meet you in Seattle.”


To this day Noah has still yet to see someone go from intoxicated to sober to gibbering to unconsciousness in such a short amount of time, and he got it all on film as well.


It was good to be alive he decided.


Racer 14 – ‘Retro Man’ – 1957 Ford Skyliner – ELIMINATED.


End of chapter.

Chapter 2 –Capers in Carter Country & Disasters in Delaware


As the small hours of the morning approached the racer’s made their way through the Carter Country area, they had all gotten off to a good start, except for Nathan but lets face it, you make that sort of comment to someone like Barch then your lucky to at least walk away with your tail between your legs…or anything else for that matter.


However the adrenaline rush of the start of the race had begun to wind down on some of the various participants which coupled with the lack of light that you tend to find when its between 2 and 5 in the morning (as well as a few being a little above the legal limit) meant that it really was a bad idea to be driving at such high speeds with reckless abandon like they did when they had started.


This of course didn’t stop any of them.



What did stop Brittney and Jodie however was a highway patrol man, the two girls exited the car after pulling over, the officer stroked his (possibly mandatory) moustache as he approached.


“I’m sorry officer!”  Brittney squeaked, “Usually I drive right around the speed limit!”


“A lapse is a lapse ma’am but a 140 Miles per hour, what where you thinking?”  The officer pointed into the air repeatedly as he spoke, he would have continued to reprimand until at least 5 other vehicles passed at equal speeds, which nearly blew his hat off.


“What the hells going on?  Everyone’s driving like crazy people tonight.”  With that he returned his attention to the two girls, “Lets see a license and some ID.”


Brittney gave an empty headed (yet oddly calculating) smile and squeaked once more “Certainly officer” and reached for the ring round the neck of her racing suit…




Jodie rolled her eyes as Brittney retrieved her licence from within and held it out for the officer who just stood staring (it was borderline ogling to be honest) at Brittney’s prominent…credentials…sure it was cheap and she felt like she was kissing her integrity goodbye but it kept them from getting ticketed.


“Heck I can’t give a ticket to a couple of nice Ga-GIRLS like you, specially with the road full of speed-crazy lunatics, you drive safe now, you hear?”


Brittney waved as the patrolman returned to his car and drove off.


“I don’t know what’s sadder Brit,” Jodie spoke, “The fact we just did that…or that it was my idea…or worst of all…that it actually worked.”


“Well we didn’t get a ticket at least, and he was kinda cute…”


“Oh and Brit, you can zip up now…unless you intend to cause a major traffic accident.”



“Huh looks like Jodie and Brittney where the first to get stopped.”  Mack commented as he glanced at the side mirror before returning to the road “well better them than us… Kevin what the hell are you doing?”


“m’ts e’zy m’k d’dd’y” Kevin replied with his mouth full before swallowing the ice cream and continuing “I figure I can stay awake by eating coffee ice cream, and it ain’t hot so it wont burn if we spill it with some whacked out driving.


Mack decided he wouldn’t waste the brain cells thinking up an intelligent response to his imbecilic friend and resigned himself to driving with his friend unconscious, he didn’t have the heart to tell him there was little-to-no caffeine in that ice cream.


“ARGH!”  Was Kevin’s next statement as he clutched his head “Bro I got a brain freeze, help me, help meeeee…”




Kevin was cut-off from making further hysterical pleadings by a sharp blow to the head by the orang-utan (nicknamed Kevin JR by Kevin…which had already earned him at least one previous blow to the head), which caused him to pass out in his seat.


Mack watched his friend reach unconscious status prematurely; “You know I’m really starting to love this monkey…”




“Ape” he corrected himself as he proceeded to drive.



In a school bus that was either picking up very eager to learn students or involved in this race that you’ve no doubt gotten sick of being mentioned (Hey I got to make sure you can remember what this story is about somehow) Angela Li battled the urge to snooze, she did this by repeating the closest thing to a mantra she knew:


“Onwards for the glory of Laaawndale High!”


Which she had been doing…


“Onwaaaaaaards for the glory of Laaawndale High!”


…For the past hour, Bennet and Morris had the foresight to wear earplugs meaning neither of them would snap, brain the principal with a baseball bat and bury her in a shallow grave at the road side (truly a wasted opportunity.)


“Onwaaaards for the glory of Laaaawndale Hiiiiiiig…ZZZZ…*SNERK* I’m Awake!  I’m Awake!”


Morris and Bennet looked at each other before removing the earplugs;


“Angela are you sure you don’t want either of us to switch with you?”


“Nooooonsense.  I shall continue to fiiiight on…”


The two shrugged and returned to their seats, mildly perturbed that because of lack of sleep her strange way of pronouncing Lawndale had spread to other words as well now.


“She’ll be out any minute wont she?”




“Then you’ll be ready to take the wheel?”




“Then we get the tape recorder so we can record everything she says in her sleep for future use such as next time we may want a raise?”




“Anthony was a genius when he came up with this plan, an insane genius who thinks his boatmobile will beat us but a genius nonetheless.”




“ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ” was Li’s contribution, shortly followed by the sound of screeching tires.



Anthony DeMartino leaned an arm over the side of his vehicle and enjoyed the night air, he was able to last without sleep for long amounts of time unlike these youngsters (A student like Kevin can result in many a sleepless night…especially after grading homework.)


He reached for the pile of food on the passenger’s side and collected a chicken drumstick, he tore into the poultry with gusto, surely this race was the best thing to happen to him since Kevin broke his leg and was absent from school.


As he was thinking of all the things he could do with the prize money such as; pay off his gambling debts, get a better place, enjoy 3 decent meals a day etc he was nearly run off the road by a school bus.


Which meant either Li had finally fallen asleep at the wheel as planned or it was another of her attempts to have him killed…the others may not have believed him when he was convinced that the Tommy Sherman memorial goalpost incident had been meant for him.  Deciding it was the former as opposed to the latter he inserted a cassette into the player of his vehicle. 


As the sound of Wagner’s ‘Ride of the Valkerye’ emanated from the speaker he grinned and took a deep breath.


“I LOVE the smell of BLACKMAIL in the early morning.”





“Yeah her schedule can be a bit of a problem, but we always find a way round it, we got a solid relationship despite everything and I don’t see that changing.”




“No I don’t know why everyone seems to think me and Jodie are going to break up after we graduate.  Sure bugs the hell out of me though.”




“Exactly, its like people who think we’re only together cause we’re the ‘only black students’ in school or something…which isn’t true anyhow, we date cause we like each other, end of story.”




“Sure other girls have hit on me, I just politely decline, I have a girlfriend I’m not interested in any of the other girls…ok I will admit that maybe if me and Jodie weren’t an item I’d consider dating someone like Daria but to be honest …she scares me.”




“No not being tempted by other girls doesn’t mean I’m gay…it just means I look at Kevin and his ways and can you think of a better deterrent than that?”




“Well of course I’m not the perfect male, I do have my bad points.”




“Well I’m discussing relationship issues with a freaking orang-utan for one thing, that’s never a good thing is it?”


“OOOOOK” The Orang-utan nodded in agreement.



As the race went on into dawn and the sun began to rise; the ‘Dammitallers’ as we can call the racers for lack of a better word; made their way into Delaware, the first state found itself the recipient of many an incident with all the clichés that a car chase needs.



“Uh huh huh huh, err like Beavis, maybe we should, I dunno, drive carefully or something?”  The brain-dead ‘brains’ of the gruesome twosome asked.


“Heh heh M heh heh heh…errrr…Why?”  The even more brain-dead cohort replied as there truck proceeded to drive into a pile of crates sending live chickens fluttering and squawking every where.



Casey and Jennifer watched the truck liberate several crates worth of poultry as they found themselves enveloped in a flurry of clucks and feathers.


“Zoinks!”  Casey cried out before looking at his team-mate “You will NEVER tell anyone I said that.”


“Take a Scooby snack and chill out dude, embrace your true nature.”  Jennifer replied; grinning; before the proverbial light bulb above the head lit up, “Hey I got an idea, these sirens work?”



‘Dammit Beavis you dumbass, the cops are after us now.”


“Huh?”  Beavis replied as he drove through a pile of watermelons.


And through the rest of Delaware, Casey and Jennifer managed to avoid attention by pretending to be in pursuit of Beavis and Butt-Head, mainly as Beavis seemed to have no idea how to work the brakes on the truck, this was proven when he drove through a large plate of glass being carried across the road by two men.


“Well Zeke” one of the two glass-carriers said to the other “our work here is done.”



Elsewhere; other racers where engaging in their own hi-jinks.


“Yeah my schedule can be a bit of a problem, but we always find a way round it, we got a solid relationship despite everything and I don’t see that changing.”




“No I don’t know why everyone seems to think me and Mack are going to break up after we graduate.  Sure bugs the hell out of me though.”




“Exactly, its like people who think we’re only together cause we’re the ‘only black students’ in school or something…which isn’t true anyhow, we date cause we like each other, end of story.”




Of course what Brittney wanted to say if she wasn’t paralyzed with fear was that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to drive so wildly in a town even at the early hours.



“Wow Jodie’s really cutting loose out there.”  Jane commented as she watched


“I have to agree, she’s gone from ‘Queen of the Honour Roll’ to ‘Queen of the Highway’ out there” Daria replied, “10 bucks says it wont last though.”


“You’re on” Jane replied, the two friends had been passing the long hours with various bets, in keeping with the usual tradition, Daria was winning most of them to her friends constant chagrin.


“I have to agree with Daria, its almost like she’s trying to wreck her fathers car as opposed to winning.”  Tom chimed in, the nap he had taken in the hotel had kept him awake for the drive.


“Oh I don’t know, Jodie’s in this to win it, wrecking the car is just a pleasant bonus.”  Daria then glanced at the driver, “speaking of wrecks, Tom your not planning on trying to stay awake the entire journey are you?”


“Nah don’t worry about that, I figure a quick stop in New Jersey can be used for resting, after all you’d have to be some sort of lunatic to not plan something like that.”



“NO SLEEP TILL…” Clovis paused singing as the music played  before he continued “BROOKLYN!”  then proceeded to head bang along to the music.


“Clovis you cannot be thinking of staying awake till New York…can you?”  Wasabi asked with trepidation in his voice, somehow he already knew the answer.


“Too bloody right I do, I don’t plan to stop for sleep this entire journey.”


“You think you can stay awake that whole time?”


“Bugger that, of course not, I figure if I get tired I can just wait till we hit an empty and straight bit of road I can snooze there without losing any ground.”


As Wasabi closed his eyes and let out a faint whimper before muttering several prayers under his breath, Carlotta leaned forwards and patted her siblings shoulder


“Dear brother of mine you truly are deranged beyond all reason.”


Clovis just glanced into the rear-view mirror at her and grinned,


“You only just figured that out?”



“Dammit Bork!”  Agent Flemming yelled; causing the hung over passenger to flinch; “we’ve been driving for God knows how many hours and we haven’t seen a single one of those damn racer scum.”


“Maybe its because we’ve been driving UNDER the speed limit ever since we left?”


Flemming looked confused at this “You mean their not?”


“…OK from now on I’m driving.”



Meanwhile back at the Le Grande hotel, up in the penthouse, the last remnants of the party where still there, most of the guests having gotten tired and gone to sleep in their rooms (or passed out on the floor) but a few where still left playing video games on the couch.


Noah looked at the map on his laptop screen with a cup of coffee in one hand; the various blinking icons indicated the various vehicles locations, from the looks of things they where all still going strong.


“Hey Jake their already in Delaware!”  He shouted across the room at his pre-occupied associate.


Jake had managed to calm down about the shock news of both his daughters participation in the race after Noah assured him his wife was currently too insane to try and flay him alive, specially as Noah had discovered that despite her losing touch with reality she was putting out some of the most efficient and effective legal work ever.  Albeit he did find it best to ignore her more unusual ideas such as copyrighting the alphabet.


Jake however he was too enthralled in his video game to hear Noah, this was mainly as he had found himself on a winning streak much to his own surprise.


“Alright Quentin my man, if I win this round, then you have to tell us what it was that was REALLY in that briefcase…and don’t be giving us any of that MacGuffin crap.”



We interrupt this story for an announcement:


At the risk of breaking the fourth wall, for those of you wondering why there has been no mention of Aunt Amy, the Fashion Club, Mystik Spiral, Bach & O’Neill, the three J’s + Robert, and Ted & Upchuck, that is simply because all of that lot; since leaving the Le Grande parking lot; in an almost inconsiderate lack of narrative sense have been driving with absolutely NOTHING of interest worth mentioning happening to them.


Hopefully they will have the (lack of) good sense to rectify this situation or failing that they’ll just wreck something, but all in good time, till then just enjoy the ride.


We now return to our regularly scheduled weirdness.



“Uh Beavis I think I should, like, drive now or something?”  Butt-Head asked,


“Are you threatening me?”  Beavis replied


What little neurons in Butt-Head’s brain registered that maybe it was a bad idea letting his friend take all those ‘No-Drowz’ caffeine pills to stay awake; they had gone through nearly all of Delaware demolishing anything in their wake.  This looked like Washington DC all over again.  Least he wouldn’t wind up with some old chick with a rubber glove sticking her hand…


His recollection was stopped (Thank God) by a cry of “PREPARE TO FACE THE WRATH OF MY BUNGHOLE!”  As Beavis or to be more precise, ‘The Great Cornholio’ yelled as he demolished a newsstand.


As the truck continued to thunder along destroying all manner of market stalls setting up in the morning, one thought sprang to the front of Butt-Head’s mind.


It was a good thing they had stolen Anderson’s license plates for this truck.



Back with Our Heroine and company, in a vehicle that looked more like the recipient of damage than the cause of it, Daria and Jane had found a good way of keeping Tom awake for longer;


“A Walrus tusk, a Xylophone in need of repair, a Yellow skittles filled brandy glass, and a Zebra’s left testicle, barbequed to a crisp…” Tom droned as he finally made it to the last of the 26 items of the picnic game.


“Ok Jane, you bet me 5 dead presidents that he wouldn’t make it all the way through.”


Jane grumbled as she reached for her wallet, “How the hell can a guy remember all that crap and have trouble remembering anniversaries and stuff?”


“Jane, men will forever remain a mystery that shall remain unexplored…and should remain that as well.”  Daria replied as she pocketed the cash.


“Hear, Hear.”  Tom chimed in as he changed gear, “You may want to hang on, some lunatic seems to have driven through this entire market, and it could get a little bumpy”


As the car made its way through the debris the ride was indeed slightly bumpy, however the bumps soon stopped…albeit this was when the car hit an unexpected ramp (that had been made by a broken stall and not placed their intentionally by some author) that left the car airborne for a short time before landing on the ground with a sudden jolt.


“Evel Knievel, you've got yourself some competition!”  Jane commented as they landed.


“How is this car still intact?”  Daria asked as she looked out the back window, half expecting to see a trail of car parts from where they landed.


“Hey this cars a lot tougher than it looks, Grandma said it served my Grandfather well through all his time working for the government.”  Tom said proudly as he patted the dashboard, causing a panel to fall off, “Aw crap…hey are those buttons?”


“They must make this car turn into a robot.”  Daria deadpanned.


“Oh come on,” Tom laughed as he spoke “Who in their right mind would think this car could do such a thing?”  The sound of his stomach rumbling diverted his attention “Hmm it seems once we reach Jersey I’ll have to stop for some breakfast as well as a nap.”


“Don’t they have a Quick Stop there?”



End of Chapter.

Chapter 3: A Quick Stop in New Jersey and…


In the early morning the racers had exited Delaware just as quick as they had entered and where now out on the open road again, with New Jersey; home of (depending on if you believe everything you see on TV or in movies) giant robots, alien invasions, at least 2 world famous slackers, a turnpike, and a comic store; in sight…


They hit the Garden state with all of the subtlety and precision of an out of control weed-whacker.



On the outskirts, outside a roadside convenience store, Upchuck pulled up in his Buick, in mid conversation with his co-racer, jumping out of the car and heading to the door as he continued to speak/shout at his partner:


“…We can’t live on gum alone for this trip,” Ted was about to open his mouth before Upchuck cut him off “I don’t care if its double mint, its still not enough…maybe if it came with those twins it wouldn’t be so bad, but alas alack it is not to be so I think we need some more substantial supplies, so stay Ted, STAY.”


Ted Stayed.



Elsewhere, up in the sky, onboard a private plane, Noah Barkman pointed to his laptop


“OK Jake as we can see by the screen they have all pretty much made it to the New Jersey area intact,” Noah said to his associate next to him in the window seat (Jake had won the coin toss) “so they should be working their way through the towns till they reach New York.”


“I don’t get it Noah, they’ve been avoiding the interstates a lot, I don’t remember you putting any restrictions on that.”


“I didn’t, I just saw to it that several people around the hotels would be discussing things that anyone who overhead them would be deterred from using interstates…”


In the seats behind them a passenger turned to the other:


“Hey Samuel, 50 bucks says he’ll say its to make it more ‘interesting’ or something.”  He hoped he could win back the money he had lost to Jake on the videogames (sure he was rich and could afford it but it’s the principal of the thing.)


“…I figured it would make things more interesting…”


“Told ya.”


Noah continued, oblivious to the discussion behind him, “Although I doubt I could have gotten all of them to have heard the rumours, mainly that the police where doing roadblocks all along the route.”  He neglected to mention he had bribed several police departments to make sure roadblocks HAD been set up along the route, “but knowing the lunatic Motorhead's we got…no offence Lemmy”


“None taken,” the guy with a mole sat next to Noah replied.


“As I was saying, those lunatics may have their own reasons, so we will have to find out as the race goes on…you ever wonder if we went to far with all this?”


The two looked at each other for a while.





Timothy O’Neil sat rather nervously in the passenger seat to the large vehicular monster, they had been travelling at a constant speed along the freeways and interstates making rather good progress, although something had been bothering him for a while and he decided it was time he spoke up.


“Janet I wasn’t going to say anything at first assuming it was just an accident, although I was unsure about the second time, but the third…well by golly I just couldn’t remain silent, you’re not really failing to see those police road blocks are you?”



Upchuck returned to his car finding a longhaired man who appeared to be in his early 40’s in jeans, t-shirt and a pair of ridiculous cowboy boots crouched in front of the car, cackling to himself.


“I’ve got you my pretties” Upchuck heard the man cackle as he proceeded to collect the more intact of the various splattered insects that where embedded on the car radiator.


“Move it you crazy Bug Guy.”  Upchuck said as he booted the guy away from his car.


“I shall have my revenge,” the guy yelled  “or my name isn’t Rich…”


“Yeah, yeah, what are you gonna do, turn me into a stalker?”


Upchuck watched the pissed off Entomologist leave before turning back to the car, only to stop in horror at the sight of the empty seat.


“Oh great, He’s loose.”


Turning round to attempt to find his wayward travelling companion, he realised how daunting a task it would be, Ted could be anywhere, anything could have happened to him, he could have met anyone, he could be in anything, he could have gotten to any place…


Which meant finding him calmly stood behind him was rather anti-climatic.


“GAH!  Ted dear fellow I specifically remember telling you to Stay, why are you Un-Stayed?”


“I had to go to the bathroom…turns out they sell gum in there as well, its kind of weird but a nice guy told me it’s an extra-long lasting gum from Japan, want one?”


As Ted held out a packet while about to put something familiar in his mouth; Upchuck was about to correct his naēve accomplice of the grave error he was about to make before he remembered the past several hours of living off nothing but double mint, consequently his breath was now even fresher than he was.


“...I’ll pass, more for you that way.”



Mr DeMartino had also stopped temporarily, but in his case to refuel, taking advantage of all expense’s being paid for supplies by stocking up on gas, the oil drums in the back of his DUKW where being put to good use (he was originally planning on filling them with explosives and dropping them out the back at Kevin, sadly the village idiots decision to team with Mr Mackenzie; one of the few students with a brain; foiled that plan.)


He had also decided to take the time while the drums filled to make a phone call to his bookie and see what his odds looked like (and maybe if they where good, lay a few bucks down as well.)


As he conversed with Big Al; the bookie who despite having the Italian mobster like name was actually a very nice guy, originally from Germany who was also a big player in the Swineslaager market, its just that with a name like Aloysius you have a hard time being taken serious as a bookie (the prefix of ‘Big’ was earned because as he put it “when you work in the sausage trade, when business is slow, you tend to eat the merchandise” and not some cruder comparison that could be drawn with sausages); hmm it seems I deviated a bit too much, no matter, just let me start again…


As he conversed with Big Al (much better) he watched a red Mini Cooper come tearing down the street before hearing what sounded like frantic yelling in Japanese of all languages (this was merely because Wasabi; when frustrated; tended to forget what language he was speaking) before making a very loud screech as it turned round and continued back in the opposite direction.  DeMartino watched this in stunned silence for a second before going back to the phone…


“Oh and by the way AL, what are the ODDS of that BRITISH entrant actually FINISHING the RACE?”



Elsewhere in a roadside diner sat 4 people with the combined musical talent of one great man…sadly for them, that man was Stephen Hawkings.


Of course I mean Mystik Spiral who with their lack of talent and brain functions STILL failed at making it big in the commercial music industry, despite all this they sat at their table enjoying a large breakfast.


“Guys, do you get the feeling we’re forgetting something?”  One asked (and does it really matter which one?)


They stopped eating for a second (for the first time in several hours an observer would have noticed) and pondered this, they knew there was something, and the brighter ones (I’m sure there is one amongst them, that or Jesse is just in the negative when it comes to IQ) had an inkling it had something to do with the reason their food was free…


“I GOT IT!”  One of them finally shouted, startling the others, “WE ORDERED ONION RINGS AS WELL!”


We can only hope they remember the race in due time.



Mystik Spiral were not the only foursome that where delayed, the Fashion Club had been unable to resist the urge to stop at every mall along the way and make a few purchases, consequently their car was becoming more and more overloaded with bags.


They where sat in the food court of a local mall having a quick snack after a recent purchase, sadly they had been unable to try on said outfits, they had been curious about the patched up holes in the changing rooms and upon asking had learned that the mall had a case of someone busting their head through into the rooms.  That had been enough to scare them away.


“My God we have got to get out of this town soon” Sandi said to her entourage, “Does no one here have fashion sense?  I mean look at those two over there!”  She said as she pointed with the straw of her diet soda towards a pair of individuals, “I mean fat people should not wear white t-shirts…especially with a plaid shirt.”


“Yeah and, OH MY GOD!”  Stacy chirped in “To make it worse he cut the sleeves off!”


“Oh I know” Quinn responded, “His friend is even worse though, I mean a blue beanie with a green hoodie? PUH-Lease.”


“That is so wrong.”  Was Tiffany’s contribution.



“Dude those chicks are so checking us out Coop.”


“You think so?”


“Oh yeah, I am so gonna have some digits by the end of the day.”  The skinny guy continued with a grin as he stood up.


“Niiiiiice.”  The portly Coop replied before getting up from his seat as well “Well have fun, I’m gonna go hit the junkyard, I hear Goat is having a 2 bucks pile today.”


As he left he heard the sounds of several girls going “EWWWWWW!”  Followed by a *SLAP* sound.


“Heh, Jamie’s still got it.”



Out on the highway Agents Bork and Flemming where stood at a roadblock, they had fortunately found and commandeered for their own use.


“I tell you what Bork, this is going to be like taking candy from a baby now.”


“Really?”  Bork replied in a less than enthusiastic manner.


“Of course, all those Damn racers will be bound to take the interstates to get there the quickest, of course it will all be for naught since we shall stop them all here.”


Bork was about to ask why they didn’t just wait AT the finish to get them but stopped when he saw something big approaching.


“Chief that looks like a monster truck!”


“Don’t worry Bork, it’ll stop…it’ll stop”


Bork couldn’t help notice his boss’s uncertainty the second time he said this.



O’Neil woke up from his nap at the sound of a bump.


“Janet what was that?  …Did you do IT again?”


“…………No Skinny, go back to sleep.”



“You where saying chief?”


“Shut up Bork, just shut up.”



With the exception of Barch who was still taking the more direct route, the rest of the racers where still in the more urban parts of New Jersey, by chance a large group of them happened to have chosen the same route and by an even more amazing case of either sheer chance or just plain bad writing they had wound up at the same point at the same time.


Most of you by now have hopefully remembered whom (maybe it’s a little egotistical thinking I deserved a ‘whom’ there but lets face it, grammar checkers are a pain in the ass to argue with) it is who has been writing this story and should all now be thinking the same thing:


“Oh this can only end badly.”


People, let it never be said I didn’t let you down there.



“Charles I’m thirsty!”


Upchuck sighed, he supposed having to deal with Ted was one of the problems he brought on himself by choosing to…well, deal with Ted.  However he was in an unusually compassionate mood towards someone not female.  Maybe it was because he had sat by and watched his travelling companion happily chew his way through a packet of ‘long lasting gum’ that had caused this altruistic impulse.


“Here, grab a soda from there” he said as he held up the bag of supplies earlier.


“Thanks Charles…wait” he said as he reached into the bag, “What’s this?”


Upchuck gulped as Ted removed a magazine from the bag as well, it wouldn’t be so bad where it not for the nature of the magazine, here’s a clue, it begins with Ex and ends in Plicit and sounds vaguely like a gangster rapper who tries to hard.  Ted opened the magazine and just fell silent with his eye’s wide.


“Now Ted, surely you’ve seen a nake…”




“Obviously not.”  Upchuck commented as Ted threw the magazine up in the air in shock, he watched it fly away on the wind, no doubt someone would video it and decide it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen (Upchuck thought the same thing about the page 7 centrefold but believe me you DO NOT want to know what that involved.)  He probably should be angrier but he figured he had more magazines and he felt an overwhelming wave of pity to his accomplice.



We now follow the errant skin magazine as it makes a random trajectory through the sky, it has an ominous air about it suggesting greater things, and much like the first pebble that starts the avalanche or the first domino in an elaborate display, or the cog in that cool Honda advert, it shall indeed fulfil such expectations…



Further back on the route was a large truck that had finally shaken off its faux-police escort and where trundling through the city in the right direction, albeit this is probably more due to sheer dumb luck (emphasis on the dumb, make it heavy emphasis) than actual planning.  However they where both in for a surprise when some sort of papery thing; most likely a magazine; suddenly fluttered up and became stuck to the windshield, I’ll give you three guesses as to which magazine…




“Beavis that is the greatest thing I have ever seen in my life!”  Said Butt-Head awe-struck; obviously the magazine had stuck on the page 7 centrefold.


“Heh really?  What about those urinals that flushed themselves?”


“Errrrrr…” Butt-head have a passable imitation of thought before continuing, “Beavis, we have a new champion.”


The drawback to this distraction, as Beavis eventually noticed, was that the driver found himself unable to notice the approaching corner.


“Uhh Butt-head…. BUUUUT-HEAD!!”


“Shut up butt-puppet, I’m trying to, like, concentrate.”  Thankfully he managed to pry his eyes away for long enough to see the rapidly approaching wall meaning he could make the necessary reaction:




Of course by that I mean scream madly and twist the wheel (also) madly, meaning they just scraped by (literally, the paint on the left side of the truck was entirely scraped off… which is puzzling since the wall was on the right hand side…)





I ask you now to recall the events at the start of Chapter 1, NOT THE ONES INVOLVING BARCH AND O’NEIL!!!  Whew that was close, almost had several mental trauma lawsuits on my hands.


I am referring of course to Beavis and Butt-head loading up their truck with loads of toilet paper or TP as they like to call it, shortly before they went to get nachos, (on an unrelated note, they got the nachos.)  The reason for this may never be known, it probably just seemed like a good idea at the time to the two, maybe they wanted to TP the space needle or something, we will sadly never find out, because as they turned sharply, they did so with enough force to throw open the back of the trailer,


And then the chaos ran rampant.



As roll after roll of toilet paper flew into the roads, the various racers found themselves under attack from small white cylindrical invaders, cars swerved left and right trying to dodge them as they piled up on their windshields.


One car that was not as lucky in evasion as the others was the ‘Fashion-Mobile’ that had become even truer to its name as it was now completely overloaded.


“Dammit Stacy!  STEER!”  Quinn yelled in a panic.


“She just can’t take it!” Stacy hyperventilated back “She just can’t do it, she doesn’t have the power!”


As the Fashion clubbers faced an almost certain exit from the race in a potentially crunchy manner, the three J’s looked out the window of Robert’s car, then at each other, where they remained silent for a few seconds.


“For the Greater God.”  One said,


“For the Greater Good.”  The other two nodded in agreement before one of them leaned forwards and grabbed the steering wheel from an objecting Robert and swerved it into an intercepting path between the TP cascade and the Fashion Club.


This noble but ultimately misguided and downright imbecilic act of self sacrifice did mean however that they now had no way of seeing where they where going and ultimately they paid the price.




DISCLAIMER: Don’t worry folks, no one dies in this fic, they just get very bad boo boo’s.  Now that I’ve committed yet another act of plagiarism lets move on shall we?



The employee of the Quick stop stood in shock, he and his compatriot who worked in the adjoining video store had just stepped out to go to lunch, only to hear a noise and turn round to find a car embedded in his workplace, (still least it meant they could get new shutters, preferably without gum jammed in the locks) as he stood watching he took a deep breath and let out a cry of…




“Oh would you quit saying that?  Whining like that is why this shit happens to you and never to me.”  The employee of the adjacent RST video said with a grin that bordered on a sneer…


That was until a school bus crashed into his place of employment.


“You where saying Ra…”


“Shut up, just shut up.”


The two Clerks where interrupted by a figure getting out of the car and brushing the rubble of himself before approaching the first of the two Clerks (the one who looked like he had been to hell and back).


“Pack of cigarettes, Ma’am.”



In the wreckage of the RST video, Principal Li lifted her head from the steering wheel of the bus; thankfully no one had been injured (something Jane would be annoyed to hear when she learned Morris was without injury and everyone in school would be the same about Li)


“Dammit, I thought these things where supposed to have airbags…” at which the principal was cut off by the sound of a delayed airbag inflating in accordance to one of the great laws of comedy, I mean, come one, hands up who didn’t see that one coming?


“Oh she’s gonna have a hard time convincing Superintendent Cartwright that she’s not insane now.”  Morris commented as she watched the principal try to struggle her way out of an air bag.


“OOH the Fuzzy Wuzzy Wee Bits Movie!”  Was Bennet’s contribution.





At the exit to a small café stood Daria, Jane and Tom who had just left after grabbing a quick bite to eat.  They had parked the car and gone in, placed their orders, eaten in peace, made a few bets about customers (to which Daria won naturally) and then got up to leave noting how peaceful it had been, obviously the cafe either had very impressive soundproofing on the walls or they where uncharacteristically oblivious to events outside.


“DAMMIT!”  Yelled Jane, “We stop for just TEN freaking minutes and we miss all the good stuff!”


“Well Jane, we still have a long way to Seattle” Tom said in a mock sympathetic voice, “and I’m sure we can have lots of fun in our next stop, New York, New York.  You know they say its one hell of a town.”


“After these lot get through with it” Daria began one of her trademark one-liners “it will be more like just Hell.”


She remained silent for a few seconds before resuming.


“What are we waiting for?  Lets take a bite out the Big Apple.  My god what’s happening to me.”


“Could it be your having fun?”  Tom asked grinning as he started up the car.


“Tragic,” Jane shook her head “And at such a young age as well.”



“Hey Waz.”


“What is it Clovis?”


“You used to come from New Jersey right?  Before moving to Lawndale?”


“I recall living in such a place yes.”


“It changed much since you left?”


Wasabi looked out the window at the site of a convenience store in ruins, Toilet Paper raining down and cars spinning and swerving all over the place in sheer chaos, he leaned back in his seat and lit up a herbal cigarette (which is not a joint despite what a lot of people always thought)


“Nah it’s pretty much how I remember it.”



“This sucks Butt-head, we’ll never win now.”


“Uhhhh… hang on Beavis I know a shortcut.”


And with that the truck made a turn and vanished off into the horizon where it along with its 2 dim-witted drivers where never heard from again (unless of course I change my mind later on in which case disregard that line…its called a ret-con, comics do it all the time…look it up.)


Racer 12 – ‘The Yes Ma’am’s’ – Ford Mustang Convertible – ELIMINATED.

Racer 5 – ‘The Laaawndale Express’ – School Bus – ELIMINATED.

Racer 7 – ‘B&B’ – Eighteen Wheeler – ELIMINATED?


End of chapter.

Chapter 4 – Blown away in a New York minute…or 2


Well I suppose its time for the obligatory pun about the racers entering their location with some sort of topical joke of some sort or other…only problem is, at the moment all I can think of is to say that “the racers hit the town like a pair of…” in fact there is no way I’m going to make the joke as I’d like to go to New York again (preferably without going through as many security checks as last time)


So they’re in New York, I think I can safely assume most of you know where it is, if not then I’m amazed you’ve gotten this far in the story (unless you clicked on the link at the start in confusion and if so…eh what the hell, still one more person reading.)


Anyhow I’m sure this tendency of mine to ramble incoherently between actual plot progression and other random stuff is getting a bit irritating,



“New York, New York”




“I want to wake up in the city that never sleeps”


“Yes Daria?”


“To find I’m ki…queen of the hill, top of the heap”


“I know you probably don’t want to ruin the seats so how about if Jane doesn’t stop singing, instead of stabbing her we just throw her out as we pass the river?”




“These little to… waittaminute…ok, ok I’ll stop.”  Jane said, breaking the song, before adding under her breath; “philistines.”


“Its not our fault you’re a terrible singer Jane.”


“Daria, tell this man that my singing isn’t always that bad.”


“She’s right Tom…usually its worse.”




“Sorry…much worse.”


“That’s better.”



Jodie stood at the counter of the convenience store and nervously patted her racing suit; they only needed Brittney to wear one so why had she decided to wear one of these as well?


It wasn’t to make Brittney comfortable about wearing hers that was for sure, hell, Brittney needed little coaxing for this idea, mainly as she wanted to get back at Kevin for something (Jodie didn’t want to know for 2 reasons, 1) she didn’t care and 2) she didn’t care, I realise they are the same reason but I thought that it was so important it needed saying twice) Brittney would have been willing to wear a g-string bikini for this race to do that…only Jodie didn’t want to be responsible for causing the biggest car pile-up since some idiot jumped out a cars trunk into the path of a truck a year or so back.


“Brittney I think I forgot my wallet, can I lend a couple of bucks from you please?”


“Sure!”  Brittney exclaimed before reaching into her bra for the cash, people often wondered how Brittney often managed to pay for things despite never carrying a purse, Jane would never realise how right she was when jealously she once remarked that Brittney’s chest paid for everything.


Jodie may have rolled her eyes but when she looked back, her jaw dropped, Brittney’s arm was somehow in up its elbow, which caused Jodie to just stare for a while before the light of realisation dawned upon her:


“Oh…it's bigger on the inside."


“Ayaiyah Poopietrim!”  Was the next thing Jodie said, albeit this was more of a random noise of exclamation people make when waking up as opposed to some form of coherent speech (And people say movies teach you nothing).


Jodie looked around to find herself laying in the back seat of her fathers ‘borrowed’ Jaguar, with her purchases from the convenience store (or at least the remnants) on the floor of the car.


“Of course it must have been a dream…Brittney’s not wearing a bra.”


Now before some of you start getting sordid ideas about this (or at least don’t get any worse ideas than you’ve already been having) the reason Jodie knows this is not because of some illicit encounter between the two (people please don’t all sigh in disappointment at once) but because Britney had complained about losing it somewhere.


Jodie hadn’t the heart to tell her she originally saw it back in the Le Grande hotel hanging from the hat of that weird retro obsessed guy…albeit she later saw it attached to the aerial of Upchucks ‘Love machine’ where it was flapping majestically in the wind like some sort of pirate flag.


Deciding that her friend did not have a bosom like the TARDIS (I’m afraid decency wins out over alliteration here this time) she began to climb into the passenger seat, only to stop when she saw Brittney’s arm vanishing down her cleavage to past the elbow.


“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!”  Jodie yelled in shock in an almost out-of-character example of surprise.


“What?”  Brittney replied casually, “My belly itches.”  She showed as she unzipped the outfit even more to show this.


“Oh right, …sorry” Jodie replied, more than mildly embarrassed, stopping to look up as she heard several sounds of tires screeching and metal colliding.


“Erm Brit better zip up…you’re doing it again.”


And now I think we shall move on to give someone else time shine because as much as I’d just love to write an entire whole chapter of jokes about Brittney’s assets, it would be way too much of a handful to manage (and yes you can all feel free to groan at that one



“It seems we’ve made it this far intact Clovis.”


“Indeed we have, my friend, I think we can shave some time off our journey if we take a detour through Grand Central station.”


There was a general air of silence in the mini


“Clovis, I think you had a slip of the tongue there, I thought you said a detour THROUGH Grand Central.”


There was another silence, except shorter which ended with Clovis breaking into a slightly manic grin, “I did.”


Before anyone could say anything else, the car took a sharp turn, down into the aforementioned train station, as the vehicle vanished down the stairs, all that could be heard was a long string of Japanese obscenities (and believe me, even non-speakers of Japanese would know they where obscenities.)



“I’m bored Charles.”  Ted said, “Do you have anything to read?”


Upchuck once again rolled his eyes, more in amusement than frustration, he had begun to warm to Ted during the trip, maybe it was their shared Geekiness (albeit on opposite ends of the Geek spectrum) so he decided he should give him a second chance…the fact he was probably the only student who had gotten a date out of Daria also meant he could no doubt get a few pointers (everyone knew Robert didn’t count.)


“Here” he said, reaching over into his backpack and removing an issue of Spiderman, “how about this?”


“Aren’t you afraid I’ll lose it like your magazine?”


“Eh, its from the Clone Saga, it wont be missed.”


“Oh Okay…You know my parents always told me that comic books contained nothing corrupting material like vivacious voluptuous women in such skimpy outfits they where near naked!”


Upchuck merely replied; “God Bless America!”







“I would just like to make it clear that I’m blaming you for this.”


The previous conversation was being muttered between the two incognito drivers of the false police car.  The reasons for this stealth conversation where sitting in the back.


“I would like to thank you two again, its good to see a pair of young upstanding officers stopping to help out a pair of fellow law enforcers.”  Said Agent Flemming.


“I still say there is something odd about them.”  Bork muttered under his breath.


“Not now Bork” Flemming snarled back,


Back in the front seat Casey continued to glare at his partner “I am never…EVER letting you drive again!”


“Well we couldn’t just leave them there…I think their armed, besides” Jennifer replied, “What’s the worse that could happen?”


“You JUST HAD to say that didn’t you?”



Amy Barksdale sighed as she continued to drive, maybe she shouldn’t have done this alone, she was getting kind of bored, after all she couldn’t really bring a book with her for this after all (As much as it was amusing watching others wind up falling victim to their own stupidity she would prefer not to be associated with them in the same category).


Still at least she got to see some sights and New York certainly had its advantages.


One of which was sat at a table of a café, blissfully unaware of the surprise that fate had in store for him.


Amy saw this and grinned as she checked the glove compartment for the length of rope and the duct tape, now she remembered why she went solo on this race.


After all kidnapping a Hollywood actor was something you want to enjoy privately.



Out on the streets of NY, a black van was hurtling down the streets at an amazing speed; the fact it was staying in one piece was even more amazing.


“I can’t believe we forgot about this.”  Nick yelled out.


“Well you’re the one who wanted second helpings at the diner!”  Max retorted.


Trent was putting the peddle to the metal so was unable to divert his focus away from the road to involve himself in the conversation, so it had more or less descended into another shrieking match between Max and Nick.  Still there was something niggling away at his head.


“Guys did we forget something?”


They where all silent for a moment before it finally dawned on them.


“THE ONIONS RINGS!”  The three yelled together.



Checking back in on Ted and Upchuck, it seems the comics had the effect of helping them to bond geek to geek and where now, like Jane, singing the song they both associated with New York the most:


“Spiderman, Spiderman,”


“Does whatever a spider can“


“Spins a web, any size,“


“Catches thieves just like flies“


“Look Out!”


“Here comes the Spiderman.”  Upchuck finished the song cheerfully…


“No I mean actually LOOK OUT!”  Ted corrected his comrade as Upchuck swiftly swerved the car, narrowly avoiding an oncoming vehicle…what looked like a red Triumph followed by several police cars.


“Say…” Ted wondered, “Was that Ralph Fiennes?”


“I believe its pronounced ‘Rafe’ actually,” Upchuck corrected.



“Huh that’s odd.”  Daria said as she hung up the cell phone,


 “Wrong number?”  Jane asked, Daria had borrowed Tom’s cell phone to check how her Aunt Amy was doing (and to see if she was ahead of them or not.)


“Must be, all I got was what sounded like the muffled sound of some English guy yelling madly before I got cut off.”


“Maybe you called Clovis by accident?”  Tom said as he switched on the radio.


“Maybe…” Daria replied but paused when she heard the radio:


“This just in, Hollywood actor Ralph Fiennes has just been kidnapped in broad daylight by a woman in a red sportscar.”


“…Or maybe not.”  Daria finished; there went her belief of there being at least one sane person in her family.


“You know I’m sure ‘Rafe’ is how its supposed to be pronounced.” Was Jane’s contribution.



“You just had to, you just had to say IT!”  Casey said while scowling at his team-mate, “Well this is no doubt NOT the worst thing that could have happened to us but it is damn well a close runner up!”


The reasons for his anger can be deduced by backtracking about 2 sections to our little musical interlude courtesy of Monsieur Dewitt-Clinton and Ruttenheimer, more specifically the line about a red Triumph (and if you haven’t figured out who that belongs to then I’m disappointed) that was followed by (and this is the important bit) several police cars, now if you recall what it is these two are driving and who their passengers are, I think you can see why he would be angry.




“And she kidnapped Ralph Fiennes…” Jennifer added, (and I swear this is the last time I’ll be using this joke, promise)


“Actually” Bork prepared to correct her “I think its pronounced Ra…”


“NOT NOW BORK!”  Flemming yelled, thereby saving you all from a ‘those paintball thingies hurt’ moment, “Doesn’t this thing have Nitrous?  It didn’t take us this long to catch Dillinger!”


“Good question, do we have Nitrous?”  Casey muttered to his associate


“Yeah 2 tanks, but I think the first one is faulty, it may end up flooding the car.”


“Light Bulb!”  Was Casey’s response after a moments thought, with that he reached into the glove compartment and removed a pair of gas masks of all things, “Put these on.”


“Do I even want to know?”  Jennifer said as she looked at the object.


“Figured as a back up plan we could put them on and say we’re transporting a sample of nerve gas or something for evidence in a trial…it was late at night and I hadn’t slept ok?”


“Whatever.”  She replied before putting on the mask,


Thankfully Agent’s Bork and Flemming has been busy arguing about the latter’s tendency to never give the former time to speak, something to do with the ‘Washington fiasco’ being averted if he had just listened or something.  Needless to say this convenient to the point of Deus Ex Machina argument left them blissfully unaware of what was about to befall them.


“Once they lose consciousness we dump them at the nearest gas station, deal?”




“Then at least we can put this episode behind us.”


“At least it can’t get any worse.”



“When this is all over I would have words with Aunt Amy.”  Daria said, her usual deadpan voice trying to maintain control despite the growing nerves she was feeling.


“Well it was only a matter of time till the police got involved” Commented Tom as he looked into the rear-view mirror,


“And at least their not chasing us, they could easily not notice us.”


“Maybe” Daria commented, with a hint of annoyance growing in her voice “If we weren’t doing well over double the speed limit…honestly given that this is New York means that the fact we’re moving at more than a snails pace is a miracle unto itself.”


“Stranger things have happened.”  Jane commented, “I mean if we can hear about your Aunt kidnapping a known celebrity in broad daylight over the radio then anything can indeed happen.”


“Speaking of which,” Tom said, “Jane would you mind switching it off?  It’s making it hard to concentrate.”




As Jane leaned forwards to switch of the radio, a bump was hit in the road, causing Jane to miss the radio and instead hit one of the buttons on the uncovered panel (end of chapter 2, look it up.)


FWOOOOOMPH!  Was the noise made (including the !) by the sudden rocket that fired from a concealed panel at the back of the car.


“Wow!”  Was all Tom could say as it blew up a police car…



“Wow, glad that wasn’t us.”  Said Jennifer.


The two had watched the occupants of the recently detonated cop car jump out moments before the missile had hit (the thing did spend quite a lot of time swirling about on its way as opposed to moving in a straight line.)


Casey however was unable to reply, since he was outside the car, dragging the two giggling Agents out of the back of the car and leaving them at the roadside.


“Hehehehehe, and because I was trying not to end the sentence with a hehehe prepopsition, hehehehehe you didn’t listen to me…”


“Hahahahaha, and if I had, hah we would have caught them, and hahahah we wouldn’t have screwed up like that and hahahahahahah glorified traffic cops.


The sat guffawing for several minutes before they both burst into tears as the grim realisation sank in.


However Casey and Jennifer saw none of this as they where long gone the first chance they got.



Quinn yawned as she woke from her nap, they had decided that they should each take turns driving and let the others sleep at regular intervals to prevent them getting bags under their eyes, albeit their time planning their sleeping rota and other such things had meant they had to cut back on less important things such as route planning and gas but who cared about that?


“Heyyy Quinn” Tiffany drawled, “according to Waif, there’s a big fashion show near here going on.”


“Huh how about that.”  Quinn mumbled, still half asleep, “wait a minute…” something then struck her about the situation that wasn’t right, “Tiffany you’re reading!”


“Yeah I can read” Tiffany frowned “I’m not stupid you know.”




“Ohhhh yeahhhh…”


It was that point they say the upturned police car and had to swerve to avoid a collisions, by a colossal million to one chance (which of course pop up nine times out of ten) they wound up crashing through the doorway of a fancy looking building, coming to a stop in the middle of the previously mentioned Waif fashion show (oh the irony.)


Quinn and Tiffany sat in stunned silence wondering how they where going to break the news to Sandi about what had just happened and how here mothers car had become a casualty of a war it had nothing to do with (doesn’t make much sense I admit but since Clerks I’ve wanted to use that line.)


“Stuff you’re Gibbon!”  Sandi yelled as she woke suddenly, “Huh…why am I in a fashion show, is this a dream?”


Quinn and Tiffany looked at each other for a few seconds, before turning to their friend


“Yes.”  They said simultaneously.



Anthony DeMartino watched the current road-bound chaos from his vehicle and laughed, those poor fools may have laughed at his choice and transport, but he was sure that once they realised his vehicle was capable of aquatic transport the smiles would be wiped from their faces.


He had driven the said vehicle into the Hudson river earlier and was finding himself making great time due to the fact all the maniacs on the road where chasing, crashing, and exploding, leaving him on his own to enjoy the ride.


“Ah it shall be SMOOTH sailing from NOW on Anthony.”  He said before laughing once again.


“Cool” said Jesse.


Anthony stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned around.


“…WHAT the HELL are you DOING in MY vehicle?”


Jesse looked around for what seemed like several minutes, the gears (all two of them) obviously very slowly turning inside his skull.


“Uh-Oh…wrong car.”  He finally said after much analysis.


DeMartino’s jaw dropped at the sight, he never thought he would see the day that someone dumber than Kevin would appear.  And to think this guy was in High School BEFORE Kevin, meaning that the students had actually begun to get smarter, the thought of such a thing began to rekindle hope in him…then he realised that by the time the students developed average intellect, he would have snuffed it long ago (and knowing Li’ he would have been stuffed and mounted as a biology aid.)



Daria, Jane and Tom had remained silent since the missile incident, they had all been staring at the buttons in the dashboard, and eventually Daria finally spoke.


“Tom, what the HELL did your grandfather do?”


“Can we press another one?”  Was Jane’s question.



Up at Seattle, Noah Barkman looked at the results of the race on his laptop, clearly paying to have the roads of NY closed for the day had certainly helped.  As he leaned back in the chair, he thought to himself, he supposed he should start looking through the bills for this venture and see how much it had set him back.


It was then Jake ran through with several red and white card buckets under his arms, “Hey Noah, one of the maids told us that a bunch of guys have gotten stoned and locked themselves on their balcony, so me and the guys are going to go and eat chicken wings at them for a while, I got a spare bucket, you wanna come along?”


It could wait.


Racer 11 – ‘Single Bored Female’ – Triumph Spitfire – ELIMINATED?

Racer 9 – ‘The Fashion Mobile’ – Mitsubishi Eclipse Spyder – ELIMINATED.


End of chapter.

Chapter 5: The Obligatory Fifth Chapter.


Well we’ve made it this far; since we last left them the racers continued on their merry way, no doubt leaving chaos in their wake, and are now in (or around) the Connecticut area…well most of them anyhow, but hey, it’s better than nothing and at least we’ve avoided any fatalities (so far).


So lets sit back and enjoy some of the highlights of the current leg of the race, all the thrills, spills, smashes, crashes and any other form of mayhem my deranged mind can come up with.



Such as the events that shall unfold in a small bookstore, that is hosting a book signing for a certain author’s debut children’s novel.


“Goddamn Harry Potter!”  The manager cursed under his breath.


“Pardon sir?”


“Ever since that damn book came out,” the manager continued to his underling, “every yahoo and freak who ever held a pencil has tried to cash in on the whole lucrative children’s book deal.”


He snorted through his nose before continuing, “Hence this weirdo we got stuck with whose ‘masterpiece’ is to be unleashed on the unwitting public here today.”


“You mean ‘The Penguins and the Possum; a Magical Tale of Angst and More Angst’ by Roge…”


“Yeah that piece of crap,” the managed interrupted, “damn things been banned in nearly every other civilised country for being a suicide risk its so damn angst-filled…man I’d hate to see what effect his other stuff has on people.”


“Well boss, judging from the lack of people turning up for this I don’t think we have to worry.”


This was no doubt an accurate statement due to the fact that there at the moment less than a dozen people where in line.  As the first person approached the author, his face fell…


“Aw man, they said it was gonna be the James Bond guy doing this.”


At this the entire line gave a sigh of disappointment and all proceeded to leave, causing the somewhat crestfallen and irate author to jump to his feet and let out a mighty yell:




However his ranting was cut short by the sudden emergence of an ice cream truck smashing through the pile of books and leaving through the other side of the store, leaving the author not only in a stunned silence but also covered in rogue ice cream s.


“Why you, I oughta…ooh penguin-popsicles!”



Now that I have no doubt managed to incur the wrath of one of the more well-known and prolific members of the Daria fandom I shall move on (and so you know, Dr Mike asked me to do the above…there now my arse is covered.)



In the back of the ice cream truck we just saw demolish a bookstore (they sure don’t make em like they used to) Mack woke up with a start,


“Kevin drive carefully, I think you nearly hit something.”


“Huh?”  A voice on the other side of the van said as Kevin also awoke and sat up, the reason for his obscurement (is that even a word?) from his compatriot was due to a large object in the middle of the van that was obscured by a sheet that Mack had expressly forbade Kevin from touching.


Now that bit of heavy-handed foreshadowing is out of the way let me continue.


“Kevin?”  Mack said in shock, “you’re supposed to be driving so what the hell are you doing?”


“Catching some Z’s man,” he replied, “but don’t worry, I got someone else to cover for me so we’re all fine.”


“What?  Who could you have gotten to…oh no…”





Tom Sloane blinked repeatedly as he looked away from the window, he better stop for some rest again and soon since it looked like he was starting to see things.


He could have sworn that he had just been overtaken by an Orang-Utan driving an ice cream truck.


Shaking his head in bemusement he began to focus on the conversation Daria and Jane where having as a means to take his mind off the previous image.


“…And then obviously would come one of the biggest shopping sprees at ‘books by the ton’ before buying ‘Chez Pierre’ and having them only serve junk food.  And you?”


“Well Amiga…a third of a million could buy a lot of art supplies…”


“What are you two talking about?”  Tom enquired, curious.


“We’re discussing what to do with our share of the prize money for if we win.”


“What share?”  Tom asked confused, “I’ve been doing all the work in this race here, you two haven’t actually done anything…ok Jane blew up a cop car but that doesn’t count.”


“Tom” Daria spoke in a calm manner, “do you want Elsie to find out about…”


“Ohh THAT share of the prize.”  Tom said, changing tone but barely missing a beat, “that one, of course………hmmm”


There was silence in the car until Daria finally spoke up again.


“Tom get your hand away from the ejector seat button.”



“Bork have I told you how much I hate these damn racers?”


“Every 3.2 seconds sir.”


“Well I do” Flemming continued unabated, “Their making the Grimes Duo seem like a walk in the park.  I mean first they run us off the road, they wind up tricking us into entering, then they drive over the speed limit all the time so we can’t catch up, they drive over our car, then they pose as police officers and then dope us up on Nitrous and dump us in New York.”


“Yes sir, God only knows how we’re going to pay the fare on this cab.”


“Don’t blaspheme Bork” which we all agree is a bit pot-kettle-black, “we’ll just show him our badges and explain we’re GTA.  Getting back to the matter at hand, I’m amazed at how quickly they outwitted our inside men, I mean those two managed to outwit the entire US intelligence so we know their good.”


“Or just that we’re very, VERY stupid.”  Was that Bork wanted to say but only managed a “Yes Sir.”



“You know Casey, maybe ditching those feds wasn’t such a bright idea, I mean what if they hold a grudge?”


“Not a problem Jennifer,” Casey said from the passenger seat while hunched over something resting on his knee, “its not like they’ll be able to do anything…There we go” he said as he finished what he was doing and sat up, “especially not without their badges.


And with that he held out a pair of purloined Government Traffic Alliance badges that had been doctored to look like belonged to Officer’s Reynolds and DeLuise.


Jennifer looked at them, impressed given that he had done such a good job with only the stuff he had in the glove compartment,


“Where do you get your wonderful toys?”



“Tell me chief,” Bork asked calmly as he walked along the side of the highway “Does it take practice to be able to be so catastrophically wrong all the time or does it just come naturally?”


“Shut up Bork” Flemming snapped back, as he continued ahead of his partner, “and how was I supposed to know he’d react like that?”


“Well when you said we where GTA I assume he got the wrong idea, that would explain the screaming and the pulling of the gun.”


“I suppose we should be grateful you pulled your gun on him first” Flemming conceded.  “Gave us a chance to get out before he did anything stupid.”


“And we wouldn’t want anyone encroaching on your territory would we?”  Was what Bork would have said, but since he had already pressed his luck once he decided not to risk it, instead playing it safe with a “so what now?”


“We wait till a suitable vehicle approaches and commandeer it, I’m sure we can find someone more accommodating than that cab driver.”


It was at this point Bork was grateful that he had packed a Kevlar vest.



Now would come the point where I would use the same sort of jokes and references to describe their journey through Rhode Island in much the same way I’ve done about some of the other places, but since all I know about that place is it has a chicken it must be cut short.


And since they did nothing of interest there anyhow I suppose I shall just move us onto the place where interesting things did happen, which happens to be the Massachusetts area.



Clovis looked out the window of his car at the surrounding area, “hey Waz, we had better be careful here, I don’t think we’d be welcome again ever since the Boston incident”


“Yeah… “  Wasabi said while looking out the window before pausing “wait a minute Clovis, WHAT Boston incident?”


“You know” Clovis said rolling his eyes, “the one where we got hired to work on that kung fu Shakespeare play and blew up half the stage.” He tsk’ed irritated, “frankly I’m amazed you could forget.”


Wasabi looked to the back at the younger Lee-Daniels sibling who just shrugged, he sighed and began to reach into his pocket while he continued,


“...Erm, that NEVER happened Clovis.”


“ Oh...bloody hell you mean I'm picking up vibrational frequencies from a parallel dimension again?”


“If by that you mean your hallucinating from lack of sleep then yes.”  Wasabi replied as he fished his lighter and a ‘cig’ out his pocket.



Back in the vehicle of Our Heroine (who as Tom did point out earlier, hasn’t really done anything since the start of this fic so the title may be unjustified this time) Jane began to whisper to her friend;


“Hey Daria, what is it he” she motioned towards Tom “doesn’t want Elsie to find out about anyhow?


Daria glanced around before whispering back “He once needed to make some last minute maintenance to the car and had to ‘borrow’ one of his sister’s bras to fix it…least that was his excuse.”


Jane was about to respond when the sudden ejection of the empty passenger seat via the top of the car both caused them to remain silent, they did however both begin to glare at Tom.


Tom grinned sheepishly before speaking, “I was aiming for the windshield wipers.”  He then muttered under his breath “Dammit.”



Now moving on to a different group of racers we find ourselves in the statistical anomaly on wheels that is ‘The Tank’ who had recovered their erstwhile member when Mr DeMartino had passed them in a diner and rather unceremoniously dumped Jesse on the sidewalk.


“OK” Max said as he looked at the map “According to this map, all we gotta do is a take a right and just keep on going and we’ll be on Route 66.”


“Are you sure man?”  Trent asked as he made the right turn, “I mean that is the map you bought off that weird guy who claimed he taught OZZY how to bite the head off a bat.”


“Hey man, he was there, you weren’t” Max angrily retorted.


Nick; who had remained silent for a while now finally spoke up, “guys there’s a wall!”


“And soon it will fall” Max continued


“Too radical man.”  Trent pointed out.


“It’s really tall” Jesse came up.


“Too simple” Trent again pointed out the flaw.


“ITS GONNA KILL US ALL!”  Nick spoke again.


“Too many syllables man…oh.”  It was at this point Trent and the others realised that their friend wasn’t suggesting lyrics but was actually talking about the brick wall they where approaching.


Fortunately the wall was that of a music club that had really skimped on the maintenance budget in favour of hiring more better-known bands than the competition.  This meant “The Tank” acted much like its namesake and smashed through the bricks,


Jesse being the first one to emerge from the damaged van looked down on the stage at the groaning figures lying prostate.


“Ooh Cake!”



Back in the Jaguar they had managed to find and put back the ejected seat, this was good since it meant that Tom was able to sleep in the back (he didn’t want to see the Orang-Utan again) with Daria driving (as nervous as she was, they had decided it was time she finally did something to earn a share of the prize) and Jane in the passenger seat (they decided the police car DID count…mainly to stop her trying more buttons).


“So anyway Amiga.”  Jane began to speak, obviously not a fan of silence.


“What’s the relation-situation with you two at present time?  She asked.


When Daria looked like she was unlikely to respond she decided to press on, “only it’s getting kind of hard to keep up to speed since you two break up and get back together more than both Kevin & Brittney and Trent & Monique combined.”


Daria had remained intently focused on the road without any sign of activity for the duration of Jane’s interrogation.  Whether this was trying to ignore Jane or simply because she didn’t want to risk any accidents on the road is up for debate.  However her hand had begun to stray towards the console of buttons.


“Don’t do it Daria, she’s not worth the trouble of putting the seat back in.”  Tom muttered from the back seat.



“This is just getting ridiculous!”  Yelled agent Flemming as he stood up from behind the overturned car he and Bork where using for cover, as he let out a hail of bullets at the yellow bus which was heartily returning fire he continued, “How the hell was I supposed to know a bus of kids was so heavily armed?”


“Gee chief don’t you know what kids today are capable of?”  Bork calmly asked, as he fished in his pocket for his cell phone, at the same time savouring the irony of his words, “don’t you read the papers?”


“The whole God-Damned world is against us Bork I Swear to God!”  Flemming screamed as he ducked down to reload.


“That I can believe” Bork said as he finally recovered his phone and began to dial, “Hello Agent Hurley?  …Yeah its Bork, …we need a lift, …oh just look for the sound of gunfire…I wish I was joking…yes that should do fine as long as its got wheels I don’t care……yes bring your rubber gloves.”  Bork glared at the figure next to him “by the end of this someone is going to get a cavity search.”



We find ourselves once more back at the Jaguar and yes I realise I’ve been using these three a lot this chapter, but hey for the supposed main characters of the show this fanfic is based off they sure haven’t done much previously so I need to balance it out a little.


Tom sat up in the back suddenly, “are those gunshots I hear?”


“Yes they are.”  Daria said, with a hint of nerves, “seems some idiots started a gunfight up ahead, now what do we do?”


“I could press buttons at random?”  Jane said eagerly.


But a “NO!”  From both Daria and Tom ruled against such a plan.



“Sounds liked gunfire Jodie, you think we should take a different route?”


“Well Brittney unless those cannonballs of yours can deflect bullets then I think that’s the smartest idea you’ve had since…well ever actually.”


While they detoured around the mini-war zone that had sprung up around them Brittney sat in silence for some time, obviously lost in thought


“You know Jodie,” she finally said as she twirled her finger around her hair, “you’ve been acting differently ever since we started this race.”


“Call it the freedom of the open road Brittney my friend” Jodie replied as she stretched back in her seat, “there’s nothing to worry about here so I can do and say what I please,” she grinned dreamily as she continued, “I mean, there are no extra-curricular activities, no parents, no homework, and no teachers…”


“Well except for Mr DeMartino.”  Brittney interrupted as she pointed at the slightly bullet-ridden D.U.K.W. that had emerged from the area of the gunfight, sat at the wheel was indeed their history teacher, looking slightly like he had undergone a ‘Nam flashback.


“Looks like he had a good time.”  Jodie commented as the sound of manic laughter died down as the vehicle took a different turning to themselves.


“Think we should tell him he was leaking gas?”


“Nah…he’ll find out eventually.”



Wasabi looked out the window of the mini and saw a familiar looking rust-ridden Jaguar not moving at the side of the road with a tuxedo clad figure leaning on the side.


“Clovis, stop for a sec will ya?”


Clovis obliged and pulled up alongside their friend’s car, he then stuck his head out of the sunroof, “Car trouble mates?”


“More like driver trouble” Tom replied with a shrug, “Seems there’s a gunfight up ahead and the sound has caused Daria to more or less freeze up.  She’s refusing to so much as budge until the sound stops.”


“Seems you could use some help then,” Wasabi spoke as he stroked his chin thoughtfully, “Got it!”  He snapped his fingers as an idea hit him, “Carlotta be a dear and fetch me the shotgun from the trunk would you?  Clovis you may want to put your headphones in.”


“You’re not suggesting driving on ahead all guns blazing are you?”  Carlotta enquired as she tossed the shotgun to Wasabi, “I mean I know my brother has done a lot of work on this thing but it can’t be bullet-proof.”


“You’d think that wouldn’t you” Wasabi said calmly as he took a pair of shells from a belt hidden under his shirt, “But don’t worry I don’t plan on solving this problem in such a manner…not yet anyhow.”  With that he approached the car and tapped on the window.


As Daria wound down the window, oblivious to what had been going on around her, this meant she gave her full focus to what Wasabi was about to say…




…Which meant the (surprisingly) loud sound made when Wasabi fired his shotgun into the air scared her enough to completely floor the gas-pedal meaning the car shot off like light speed.


“Sometimes the simplest solutions are often the best.”  Wasabi said as he removed the ‘Noisemaker’ rounds and replaced them with rock-salt rounds (Wasabi always carried a large variety of ammunition types for every sort of occasion).


“That’s as maybe…” Tom said as he watched the car vanish into the horizon “But I think you two owe me a lift until we catch up ourselves.”



Now since I’m slightly over-running on time for this chapter, I’ll have to just plain tell you a few things now, Tom wound up back in the drivers seat of his car, although he did have to jump in through the still open drivers seat window, Clovis wasn’t willing to stop or slow down a second time.


Also the prospect of making his best friend jump from one speeding car to another during a gunfight was just too good a chance to miss.


They both made it past the gunfight unharmed (although Wasabi did blast a shell or two of rock-salt in the direction of Bork and Flemming) and the gunfight did begin to slow down, without fatalities (this is mainly as Flemming never took his shades off and the kids just had no idea how to use their guns) although several shop signs where casualties.



In the Jaguar, Daria sat in the back seat after Tom had dived through the open window, meaning one of them had to move; she had been sat in silence since they had left the gunfight (which had finally shown signs of slowing down.)


“I suppose setting off both the smoke-screen and the oil-slick was a good way of stopping those people from shooting at each other.”  She eventually spoke up.


“Yeah” Tom commented before muttering to Jane, “too bad this time we really where looking for the windshield wipers.”



“What the hell happened here Chief?”  Agent Hurley asked as she surveyed the chaos around her,


“Uuuuurgh” Was all Flemming was able to groan meaning it fell to Bork to explain.


“Well the chief wound up causing a gun-fight with a bunch of school-kids…don’t ask, and then it gets worse, first some nutcase in a boat on wheels shot past, then some small red thing went past and a guy emptied a shotgun of rock-salt at us, the chief took the worst of it, that’s why we need to lie him on his front, he wont be sitting down for a while, and lastly some rust-bucket set off a smoke-screen and oil-slick that nearly made you crash into us,” Bork sighed “the sooner we get to Seattle the better, I feel like I’m three days away from retirement.



And on that note we end another glorious chapter, stay tuned for further mayhem.


Racer 2 – ‘…But we’re Thinking of Changing Our Name’ – Chevrolet van – ELIMINATED


End of chapter.

Chapter 6 – The Chicago Way in Detroit Rock City.


You wanna know how you write this stuff? Here's how, they pull a shipper-fic, you pull an angst-fic. He sends one of yours favourite characters to the Chapel, you send one of his to the Asylum. That's the Chicago way, and that's how you get Fic Done!…


I’m sorry I don’t quite know what came over me there, the local ‘ambience’ of entering Chicago coupled with a mild case of writers block had some unforeseen side effects, if you’ll excuse me we’ll continue with the fic while I go see about this overpowering urge to bring down Al Capone…



Moving swiftly on to some more mayhem in between our racers having deep insightful discussions covering a wide variety of subjects and opinions…


“No Kevin Chicagoland is NOT a gangster style theme park, even a monkey knows that!




“No Offence.”


…Ok maybe not all the time.



Elsewhere at the entrance to the ‘Field Museum of Natural History’ if you where to stand and observe the place for the next few minutes you would behold an interesting site;


Mainly as suddenly there came the sound of much bedlam, a sound not unlike the worlds largest T-Rex skeleton falling down (I’ll give you 3 guesses as to why) a healthy dose of obscenities and finally the sound of breaking glass.


A large boat like vehicle bursting out through the doors and tearing down the street was what struck the last chord in this symphony of destruction.


“SORRY about the GIFT shop!”  DeMartino yelled as he glanced over his shoulder, this caused him to notice the small trail of gasoline dripping from the back of his vehicle.


“AW DAMMIT!”  He yelled, obviously duct tape wasn’t the ‘be all and end all’ it was hyped up as being when he tried to fix the bullet hole.


He let out a grunt of irritation as he reached for his phone; desperate times call for desperate measures.


He prepared to dial a number but stopped when he realised he was holding onto a dinosaur bone.


“HEH, a little PIECE of HISTORY to take HOME and CALL my OWN” he said before tossing it into the back and managing to fish out his phone from amongst the assorted food and debris in the vehicle and dialled a number he knew should only be called in case of an emergency.


“Buck?  Yeah its Anthony, remember that business back in Bogotá?  Well I’m calling in a solid ‘You Owe Me’ here…”



Elsewhere a Black LTD was parked outside a small diner, 2 figures left, one female, and one male, both somewhat reluctant to go to the car.


“You sure stopping was a good idea Bork?  I mean the Chief was pretty steamed when he stormed out…”


“Look the Chief dragged me off on this insane crusade of his, and to be frank I’m getting a little sick of him and following him around, and besides…” As they reached the car they stopped and looked at the grey haired figure at the door


“Open, Dammit, Open.”  Agent Flemming strained as he tried to open the locked car door to the drivers seat.


“…I’m beginning to think he’s having a worse reaction to those painkillers than we thought.”  Bork finished as he put his hands on Flemming’s shoulders and led him away from the door


“Prime, you said it would light our darkest hour…”


“A much worse reaction.



“You know Tom.”  Daria said in her usual deadpan (now fully recovered from the events of the previous chapter…and with the amount of time I take between writing these damn things its no surprise) “When you said we’d take in ‘The Magnificent Mile’ I didn’t realise you meant literally…”


She was cut off by a flyer wrapping itself around her in the face, one of many that was entering through the open windows of the Jaguar as they managed to cut a swathe through the various stands set up along the way.  Daria struggled with the paper while the others paid it no heed.


“Hey its not my fault someone misread the map” Tom said before looking at Jane accusingly, “I mean having the map upside-down is one thing, that has comedy value, holding it at a 90 degree angle is just sloppy.”


“Hey don’t go looking at me like it’s my fault just because it is my fault.”  Jane snapped before pausing for a second while her brain caught up with what she had actually said, at which she decided to make a quick attempt at changing the subject.


“Hey look at this” she said as she snatched the flyer that Daria had just managed to succeed in removing from her face “says here the John Hancock has the highest residents of any other building.”


“It says highest residencies Jane” Daria replied, “its not a Jesse sanctuary.”


“I swear sometimes the two of you argue and bicker so much I’m amazed you’re not dating each other.”  Tom commented as he tried to use the wipers to clear the amassed papers off the windshield (incidentally the incident of a sudden; yet non-fatal; explosion at the Palmolive building is still baffling police.  Although a small group of mobsters holding a meeting outside where convinced it was an attack meant for them.)


Daria just looked at Jane for a few seconds before she finally spoke, “Even if she was a guy it would never work out.”



At yet another location in Chicago, this time a cemetery, the scene is sombre, silent, quiet as the grave to use a somewhat cliché yet fitting term to describe it.


All of which is ruined as a red min cooper shot nay ploughed through it at high speeds.


"Dude I think you just wiped out half this elections voters!"  Wasabi exclaimed as he realised that Clovis’s shortcuts made him a danger to both the living and the dead.


“Eh they ain’t getting any bloody deader.”


“I swear letting you drive is going to be the greatest mistake of my life…mainly as I don’t see myself living long enough to make more.”


“Out of curiosity,” Carlotta enquired, “Why are you letting my brain-blitzed brother drive anyway?  I thought there was a court order saying he was forbidden from so much as even looking at a steering wheel?”


“Turns out the order was only good for one year and expired the day this race was announced, I tried to get the order redone but SOMEONE had broken into the safe I stored it and left nothing but a pile of ashes.”


“I blame the rise in ninja activity…damn those pesky ninja.”  Clovis said while trying to hide the smirk on his face.


“That and my Cruiser had to be repaired…again meaning that I had no choice other than entering with Clovis if I wanted to win.”


“So you agreed on splitting the prize money with each other?”  Carlotta asked?


At this point the car came to a screeching halt (which threw the two unprepared passengers forward with humorous results)





Now moving quickly on before people realise I may have just violated several corpses with a small car for the sake of a few lines of jokes…DAMMIT!  Anyhow we now move forward as we follow the racers as they make it into Detroit, expect the usual.



“How’s the Chief doing back there Hurley?”  Bork asked from behind the wheel,


“Let me check.”


“…I once had my 15 minutes of fame if you can call it that, before I joined the ATF I hoped to make it big as an actor, my big break was in 1959, when I co-starred in an unsold pilot about two importers, where we travelled the world for goods to sell…but the network didn’t buy it and there it was, my career over like that, Do you know what it's like to fall in the mud and get kicked... in the head... with an iron boot? Of course you don't, no one does. It never happens. It's a dumb question... skip it.”


“I think he’s still out of it but getting close to normal.”


“Good, Chief shut up and let me drive in peace.”


“BORK!”  Hurley let out an exclamation of shock “you can’t talk to Chief like that…he can’t talk you like that Chief!”


“But it's his ship now, his command. He's in charge, the boss, the head man, top dog, big cheese, a head honcho, number...”


Hurley thought long and hard about the distance to Seattle and what she would be putting up with.


“Are we there yet?”



Further on down in Detroit, at the site of the historical MoTown records, Michael Jordan Mackenzie had stopped the ice-cream truck to take a break, he stood and looked at the site of the place that had done more for Black music than anywhere else, he thought of all the people who had careers made, had become accepted by people, and found fame and fortune…


“Yo Mack Daddy can we go yet?”


…Of course given that it meant they where partially responsible for him being lumbered with THAT nickname for so long, the effect was somewhat lost on him.



“Wow this place has everything.”


“Sure does Brit” Jodie replied as she made a swift detour through a local mall (hey everyone else was doing it so why not?)


“By the way Jodie,” Brittney asked, “I was looking at our map and I noticed one of the places written and was wondering…”


“Yes, Brittney Chicagoland IS a gangster style theme park, even a monkey knows that!




“Whoa a Fence!”



Over in Seattle, Noah Barkman looked at his laptop checking on the racers progress, so far all was going well, albeit a few more had eliminated themselves and it seemed like he would have to give a prize to anyone who so much as crossed the finish line intact it seemed.  Those still in the game had made it all the way to Detroit in the Michigan area so where not far off.


Everything seemed to be going fine until he clicked on the small blinking alert box that had appeared at the bottom of the screen.  The one named ‘emergency weather warning.’


“A Tornado?  You gotta be kidding me.  I mean I wanted interesting but this is too much…hmm”


He looked at the map to see what the closest shelter for the racers would be and finding an abandoned factory complex, he quickly accessed the emergency setting for the race cards he issued all participants with.


Across Detroit the various racers where surprised to see their race cards begin blinking before their radios all switched on and gave a warning message and directions to the factory.  (A little high tech goes a long way.)


Meaning Noah’s helpful attempt to deal with this sudden and narratively (is that a word?  Who cares) convenient act of nature meant they would all be in the same place at once.


If you excuse me I believe an EEP is in order:





I’m going to skip the section detailing everyone arriving at the factory and waiting out the storm, mainly as despite the sheer comedy potential available from a tornado, none of them: wandered out thinking it has passed only to be caught in the eye of the storm (Simpson’s did it), got hit by a flying cow, or had their car totalled (a combination of sheer dumb luck bordering on the miraculous mixed with lazy writing) and move straight to after it has passed to move on to more important things.



As the various racers left the buildings of the factory complex they where all taken by surprise by several things.


First of all, the tornado, although leaving their vehicles undamaged, had left a large pile of debris piled at the entrance, effectively leaving them sealed into the complex.


Also a heavily irate biker gang had also been trapped inside, whether they had sought shelter as well or simply being picked up by the tornado and dumped in the complex is up for debate.


And that would have to wait anyhow since ALSO in the courtyard (good things come in three’s after all) was an even more irate group of mobsters.  Now I’m sure now you’re thinking, “Time Out, DJW’s lost it.”  To whit I say, “You only just figured that out?”


The bikers are a bit out of left field I admit but hey, the way this fic has been going, it shouldn’t be a surprise to see something like that now, as for the mobsters, well 8 or so sections back you should find mention of a group of mobsters, that’s them, they where following the group of fast moving vehicles that where seen passing by at great speeds after (and before) the supposed ‘attack’ upon them.


They are irate because it seems in the rush to chase after their ‘attackers’ they forgot to bring any weapons.  Meaning now standing between our motley crew of racers stands both an angry biker gang looking to let off some frustration as well as a group of vengeance seeking mobsters, this can mean only one thing.







As the brawl began, the Lee-Daniels sibling looked at each other, the younger and supposedly saner Carlotta’s face bearing a near-insane grin that was usually the trademark of her elder brother (which he was returning with equal if not greater levels of implied insanity)


“Highest KO count wins?”


“You’re on.”


And with that they dived into the fray leaving Wasabi to think to himself:


“I guess Clovis beating up a biker gang is a victimless crime…like firebombing an orgy.”


He then however gave a long shiver as he realised all his guns where still in the car, he sighed and hoped Clovis’s advice that “most people will run from a screaming Asian guy” would prove to be true.



“Well shall we join in the fun?”  Tom asked,


“By all means feel free to get yourself beaten to a pulp.”  Daria calmly said as she dodged an oncoming assailant, “Me I still have that whole ‘uneasy with physical contact’ thing and (unlike my mother) that include big sweaty bikers.”  As she effortlessly avoided another she continued “As well as Chicago mobsters.”  Before stepping back to avoid 2 more, causing Clovis to stop and admire her technique caused entirely by her dislike of physical contact.


“I think I’ll just take a few photos,” Jane said, reaching into her backpack, “after all an opportunity like this doesn’t happen often.”


“OK ladies, then I shall take my leave of you for now, Jane if you get any of me try and make copies so I can really freak my parents out would you?  HEY CLOVIS save some for me would ya?”



Mack looked at the assortment of thugs brawling around him and decided if he wanted to get through this alive there was only one thing to do.


He picked up a large, vaguely football shaped rock from the ground before continuing, “Kevin, we’re going to execute play 13, 7, 0.”


“What?”  Kevin replied dumbfounded (not that hard to imagine really) “But…but…that play is banned in all 50 states…though I’m not so sure about Ohio.”




“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Mack said as he readied the rock “Just imagine your aiming for Sam Stack.”


At the mention of the name of the man who would be Kevin’s nemesis if he knew what it meant (or how to spell it) Kevin readied himself to make the forbidden play.


“5,4,3,2,1 HUT!”  Mack yelled as he spun and hit a biker who was approaching him with the rock before throwing it at another thug, the rock hit him in the stomach causing him to stagger back before Kevin dived into him, only he hit a bit below the stomach…ouch.



Carlotta winced as she saw the above-mentioned double whammy, before she jumped and took down a pair of mobsters with a splits kick (it annoyed Clovis who couldn’t do the move as easily since he often tore his clothing) and as they fell to the floor she looked up with a grin.


“Clovis!  Two already!”


“I’m on Seventeen.”  Her brother replied as he causally left a biker twice his size generally dislocated.


Sibling rivalry between martial arts masters sure is a scary thing.



To Janet Barch this is the sort of situation that she would relish, having a load of ‘MEN’ to take out all her overblown aggression against which is why she was showing increasing frustration at the man who was showing no ill effect of her punches and kicks…it was becoming worryingly apparent he may actually be enjoying it.


However her worry was replaced with surprise when a person carrying a 2x4 appeared behind the thug in question.


"Please, you wouldn’t last five minutes doing volunteer work at a senior citizens rest home."  O’Neill said before he hit the thug once in the leg with the 2x4 and once again on the back of the head as he grabbed his foot meaning he quickly crumpled to the floor.


“Now that’s how you do it.”



Wasabi cursed his luck as he ran, all the advice Clovis gives and he would remember the line from an 80’s martial arts movie, which given that it had resulted in him being chased by a motorcycle riding assailant, he was not in the best of moods.


“When you don't want him he's around! When you want him he's not around! I'm gonna Die!”  He thought to himself as the bike bore down on him until…




Clovis suddenly appeared, using his friend as an impromptu springboard (much to Wasabi’s chagrin) that meant the rider of the bike would have been very surprised at Clovis kicking him off the bike, that is if he hadn’t been knocked unconscious first.


Clovis landed on the handlebars of the bike, gave a small smirk as he looked at Carlotta seething (he was leading 23-20) as he showed off, deciding to add a little flourish he kicked the handlebars as he jumped off the bike, sending it hurtling into one of the buildings of the complex, which promptly followed Hollywood rules by erupting into flames.  Clovis grinned at his sister who just glared before finally speaking up:


“Well it still only counts as one!”



DeMartino was another of the Lawndale faculty enjoying the chance at taking out some frustration, in his case it was at the fact the leak meant his DUKW had finally run out of gas a little outside of the complex meaning he had to push it the rest of the way before the hurricane, luckily he had managed to phone Buck and let him know of the change in location.


As he punched out another biker (who had the misfortune of bearing some resemblance to Kevin) he turned ready to take on another, stopping when his phone began to ring,


"EXCUSE me ONE second, this may be IMPORTANT."


The biker stood in a mix of shock and befuddlement as DeMartino took out a cell phone and began to nonchalantly talk on it.


"Uh-HUH…ok…great…yeah just DROP it HERE thanks Buck."  And with that he hung up the phone, looked into the air; taking several steps back; then looked at the biker, "You MIGHT want to take a few steps BACK yourself!"


At that the biker noticed a growing silhouette around him before looking up and diving for cover as a large Tank fell from the sky, landing on the ground with an audible THUD!


DeMartino looked at in stunned silence for a few seconds before a devilish grin spread across his face.


“HOT DAMN!  Mr Conroy you have OUTDONE yourself!  Here was me expecting just a JEEP.”  With that he climbed in and had an evil idea, looking out at the battlefield he spotted Kevin (being shown the proper way to throw a punch by an orang-utan) and began to aim the turret…


“Aw man!”  Kevin cried out as he found himself doused in paint.


"DAMMIT!  Buck left his Uncle Oddball's AMMO in there again!"



“This isn't the state of Michigan, it's a state of insanity.”  Agent Flemming yelled as he climbed to the top of the debris pile blocking the way out.


“At last!  Something we agree on Chief.”  Bork said as he followed suit, “so now what are you planning Chief?  Is it another brilliant plan that will land us in even more shit than we’re already in?”


“Bork what have I told you about ending a sentence with a preposition?”


“Oh blow it out your ass ‘Chief’ I really don’t care.”


“Watch your mouth Bork, don’t forget I could have you charged for disrespecting a senior agent for that sort of language.”


“You know its funny you should say that ‘Chief’ because it turns out you can’t, I checked with Hurley while you where bombed out of your head, and it seems we where both busted down to the same rank.  So let’s cut the authoritative crap and you can explain why we’re up here in the first place.”


After looking like he would burst a blood vessel for several seconds Flemming grimaced and continued “Fine…from up here we can stop this brawl and arrest not only these Goddamn racers, but a biker gang and some mobsters, now if that doesn’t put us in the good books nothing will.”  He said as he drew his gun and aimed it into the air and fired.


“You know ‘Chief’ given that there appears to be a Tank aiming at us I think that you’ve managed to maintain a perfect track record…for screw-ups.”  Bork took a deep breath “I’m going to scream in terror as I leap off this thing, feel free to join me.”


As DeMartino (while cackling madly, possibly experiencing pleasant memories of previous uses of a tank) fired a shell at the pile of debris he had heard a gunshot from, they did indeed both utter screams of terror as they leapt off.



With the sudden demolition of the obstruction at the entrance (and the number of opponents dwindling to nearly match that of the Dodo) the racers all began making their way to their vehicles, ready to resume their quest for a million dollars.


“Come on Clovis, you don’t want to get held up do you?”  Tom said as he passed, he himself having managed to survive with only a few tears to his tuxedo.


“Just a second mate” Clovis said between punches, “Just got one more biker left to go.”


“Clovis that’s not a biker.”  Jane said as she stopped to look“…that’s Mrs Barch.”  After a pause she added, “Resume your pummelling.”


“Oops.”  Clovis said as he ran to his car, hearing a faint whimper and a cry of “Janet what have they done to you?”  From over his shoulder.



Upchuck and Ted where the first to leave the factory complex, mainly due to Upchuck spending the entire brawl cowering in the car.  However one thing neither he nor Ted had taken into account was: when DeMartino blew up the debris blocking the entrance, where did it land?  The answer was, of course, in their path.


Due to them both looking over their shoulders, watching everyone else being behind them, they where busy giving an impromptu victory laugh, that is until they looked in front of them and their laughter turned into girlish screams of terror as they swerved all over the road trying to avoid the assorted stuff in their paths.


Eventually they overdid it and wound up skidding off the road and right through the entrance of a seedy looking roadside building, when they where inside, they looked up and upon seeing the buxom woman (barely) wearing a stars and stripes bikini as she cavorted and danced around on the stage, they could only say one thing.


“God Bless America!”


Racer number 12 – ‘The Love Machine’ - 1966 Buick Convertible; Wildcat – ELIMINATED


End of Chapter.

Chapter 7 – ‘Tossed Salads & Scrambled Eggs’ or ‘The Last Lap.’


Well here we are, it took us a while but we seem to be approaching the end.  Despite our racers encountering tornadoes, writers block, incompetent feds, the ‘picnic game’, multiple film and pop-culture references, a completely un-needed and gratuitous brawl scene, and worst of all: Jane’s singing!  Yes despite all that, they have survived…well most of them anyway.  In fact to recap we have lost the current racers so far:


Chapter 1:

Racer Number 14 – ‘Retro Man’ – 1957 Ford Skyliner – ELIMINATED.  Due to his own idiocy when he offended Barch.


Chapter 3:

Racer Number 12 – ‘The Yes Ma’am’s’ – Ford Mustang Convertible – ELIMINATED.  Due to an act of heroic/idiotic sacrifice they wound up crashing into a Quick-Stop.

Racer Number 5 – ‘The Laaawndale Express’ – School Bus – ELIMINATED.  Ditto but the RST video next to it.

Racer Number 7 – ‘B&B’ – Eighteen Wheeler – ELIMINATED?  Took a ‘shortcut’ and haven’t been heard from since.  (Although for all we know they could still be out there striking fear into the hearts of motorists everywhere)


Chapter 4:

Racer Number 11 – ‘Single Bored Female’ – Triumph Spitfire – ELIMINATED?  Kidnapped Ralph Fiennes and was last seen being chased by the police.  Unknown if she can stage a surprise comeback in the near future.

Racer Number 9 – ‘The Fashion Mobile’ – Mitsubishi Eclipse Spyder – ELIMINATED.  Wound up crashing a fashion show in more ways than one.


Chapter 5:

Racer Number 2 – ‘…But we’re Thinking of Changing Our Name’ – Chevrolet van – ELIMINATED.  Little incident involving a wall.


Chapter 6:

Racer Number 12 – ‘The Love Machine’ - 1966 Buick Convertible; Wildcat – ELIMINATED.  Oh come on its only a paragraph or so above this, just press ‘pageup’ if you’ve already forgotten that one.


And I can guarantee that by the end of the chapter there shall be at least 2 more racers eliminated before the finish and we shall definitely know who the winner is.


So now how about we recap whom we STILL have in the race:


Racer Number 1 – ‘A Guy Called Sloane’ – 1968 Jaguar 420G: originally planned as a solo attempt by Tom Sloane although Daria and Jane have invited themselves along for the ride, will their status as the shows main characters allow them to triumph?  Maybe but then this is a Daria fanfic…


Racer Number 3 – ‘The J-Men’ – Original Mini Cooper: Consisting of Clovis Lee-Daniels, his younger sister Carlotta, and Wasabi Yojiman Sakaguchi.  This trio of original characters have been wreaking havoc on the highway for some time; will their status as original creations curry the favour of the author?  …Or will Clovis remain in character and do something stupid at the last minute?


Racer Number 4 – ‘Crazy Anthony’ – WWII D.U.K.W. changed for a Tank: Despite having to make an impromptu vehicle change he has been racing on mainly by sheer manic willpower and the prospect of money.


Racer Number 6 – ‘Man Crusher’ – Monster Truck: due to the state of her vehicle Barch has been able to just power her way through the race without incident.  Although due to her recent accidental pummelling at the hands (Well fists to be precise) of Clovis who knows if she will jeopardise her chance of winning in a foolish revenge attempt…what do you think?


Racer Number 8 – ‘Bro and QB’ – Ice Cream Truck: Mack and Kevin have somehow managed to keep going, no doubt due to the assistance of their Orang-utan…no I don’t know where it came from either but just go with it.  Everyone loves monkeys…I mean apes.


Racer Number 10 – ‘Shaggy and Burnout’ – ‘Police’ Mustang: Casey and Jennifer, also known by their team-name, have shown that despite being a pair of background characters with no lines of dialogue in the show have managed to keep up with the rest (although it could just be Shaggy and his damn time travelling powers, who knows.)


Racer Number 13 – ‘Girls on The Edge’ – Jaguar XJ Sedan: Like their ‘significant others’ Jodie and Brittany have managed to keep going without too many incidents.  Although Jodie has begun showing signs of her personality loosening up. Should makes things interesting when she tells her father that she borrowed the car.


Racer Number 16 – ‘The Feds’ – (Several) Ford LTD(‘s): Agents Flemming and Bork in their constant attempts to stop the race have wound up not only entering but somehow staying in the game, even if they’ve totalled more cars in the process than a Michael Bay movie, will Bork be able to put up with Flemming long enough to make any arrests or will a sudden homicide interfere with the investigation?


Well since I’ve taken up a good bit of space padding for time let’s get on with the show.




The following chapter may contain implied monkey abuse amongst other things!



Out on the open road before the entrance to Seattle, a small red car was approaching the city at its usual speed.


Carlotta Lee-Daniels took in the view as she looked out the back window, when her parents suggested she spent more time with her older brother she doubted this was what they had in mind, but all things considered it wasn’t too bad, although…


“Hey guys,” she said while tapping the back of her siblings seat, “I think something’s following us, something big.”



“Janet I really think this is a bad idea!”


“I am not in the mood Skinny!”  Barch replied through gritted teeth.  The pummelling she had received (as unintentional as it was in Clovis’s defence) was not something she was going to forgive, and since she was in possession of a monster truck, she could be unforgiving in a very distinct way.


“Every seen what happens to a can when it gets crushed Skinny?”



“BLOODY HELL!”  Carlotta yelled as the car swerved out the way of the oncoming vehicle.


“You truly are your brothers sister.”  Wasabi muttered before adding, “Oh look, she’s turning around for another run.”


“Indeed she is.”  Clovis responded before getting an idea (You could tell from the grin) “Wasabi take the wheel, just drive straight ahead and don’t turn whatever you do there’s a good chap.”


“But if I don’t turn she’ll crush us!”  Wasabi replied as he complied with his friend.


“And if you DO turn,” Clovis responded as he climbed into the back of the car and began rummaging around amongst the various junk they had packed, “Then imagine what it is I shall do to you, savvy?”


“Drive straight ahead no matter what got it.”  Wasabi replied quickly as his hands tightened around the wheel.  He was a little disconcerted to see (in the rear view mirror) Clovis opening a door and instead of jumping out as Wasabi expected, he flipped up onto the roof of the car and stood there.


The fact his friend was doing such a bizarre thing was made even more unsettling by the fact he had grabbed a Nodachi before doing so.  Now for those not well versed in weaponry, Nodachi is Japanese for ‘one really big-ass motherf***ing sword!’ and when wielded by someone whose lack in sanity was more than made up for by his weaponry skill, well lets say this could get interesting.



In the monster truck, Barch looked at the strange site of the figure stood astride the tiny car, she even saw him look at her and wave before the car vanished underneath them, she also heard a strange *SHINK* sound before she saw the car appear from underneath in the rear view mirror before turning the wheel again, at that point she now heard another noise…



Clovis turned to admire his handiwork as he watched the wheels fall off the giant monster truck, cutting through the axels with his Nodachi had been a gamble but it had paid off.  He waved to the fuming driver before giving the good old-fashioned British 2-fingered salute before diving in through his window and returning to the drivers seat.


“You know I hate to cut and run but we do have a race to win.”


“British Humour.”  Wasabi sighed to himself.



“Well looks like another one got eliminated Jake.”  Noah said as he looked at the screen.


“Man do we actually have anyone still left in this race?  Hey Noah maybe you should offer a prize for anyone who even makes it across the finish line?”


“Don’t give me ideas Jake.  My accountant has already gone catatonic, and my economist has been acting a little odd as well…”




“Yeah you know, that Argentinean girl, her name was Natalie…something, I can’t remember her surname which is strange as it was oddly familiar.”


“Ah” Jake said nervously, “I think I know why she’s been acting strange, earlier I tried to say hello in Spanish…that Rodriguez guy taught me what to say” he paused for a few seconds before continuing, ”although the guy had been downing a few too many Tequilas and instead of telling me to say ‘hello how are you?’ he wound up teaching me how to ask her if I could ‘marry her uncles ostrich’ or something, albeit I think that’s the cleaned up version.”


“You never cease to amaze me Jake.”  Noah said as he put on a coat.


“Thanks I think…going out?”


“Yeah, I’m going to check out the Space Needle and see if I can see anyone.”  Noah replied before taking a quick glance at the laptop showing the locations of the various racers in or around the Seattle area.


“Huh that’s odd…”



“Now correct me if I’m wrong Kevin, and please do.  But we should right now be outside the ‘Paramount Hotel’ in Seattle correct?”




“Yet instead we seem to find ourselves out in the middle of the ‘Hoh Rain Forest’ and as fascinating as it is being in one of the few temperate rainforests in the world, it does rather hinder our plans for winning the race does it not?”


“Sure does Mack Da…” In a rare moment of self-preservation induced brainpower Kevin did not continue.


“And Kevin I know even you aren’t stupid enough to manage this, so did this happen?”


“I guess someone may have messed with our maps Bro…but who would do such a thing…”


Then at once the two slowly turned around…


“ook…” The Orang-utan ooked weakly as it tried to hide behind the map.


“Aw man” Kevin sighed, “guess that’s it for us huh Bro?  …Bro?”  He looked to see Mack climbing into the back of the Ice-Cream truck with the ‘tracking device’ of Noah’s in his hand, “What are you doing Mack Daddy?”


“Getting back into the race.”  Mack replied as he changed out of his ice-cream vendor uniform into a black leather jacket “And don’t call me that.”


“But how man?  We can’t find the roads out…”


“Roads?”  Mack replied as he grabbed the sheet in the back (see heavy-handed foreshadowing:  chapter 5) “What I’m riding, I don’t need…roads.”


And with that Mack burst out the back of the ice-cream truck riding his motorcycle in true Hollywood fashion.


“Bro what am I gonna do?”  Kevin shouted to him.


“I dunno, Spank the Monkey?”





“BRRR!”  Daria shuddered suddenly in the back seat of the car.


“What is it Daria?”


“Strange, I thought I sensed something; a presence I've not felt since...nah, anyway how are we doing?”


“Not too bad.”  Tom replied as he glanced in the rear view mirror “I can see a few familiar vehicles behind and one or two in front but nothing I can’t overtake.”


“Also knowing the way things have been going a few of them may try and take shortcuts, and if there is one useful thing I learned from Beavis, its that shortcuts are usually a bad idea.”



“OK Brit,” Jodie spoke as she looked at the map in her lap, “if we take a shortcut through this park we should be able to save a lot of time.”


“If you say so …” Brittney said as she tried to remember what it was about the park that bothered her, “Hey Jodie what was the name of this park again?”


“Green Lake Park, why do you ask?”


“Oh…” She said as she looked ahead with a resigned look on her face, “no reason…”







“Hey Shaggy… I mean Casey” Jennifer corrected herself as she saw her accomplices glare, “Does that police radio we have actually work?”


“Now that you mention it I’m not sure, it came with the car, lets find out.”  He replied as he switched it on.




At first the two sat in silence upon hearing the radio report:






Hey I told you they where silent, eventually one of them turned to the other and spoke:


“I always knew our history teacher would do something like this one day.”


“Yup, but hey, at least we get to use the siren again.”



To say Anthony DeMartino was having a good time would almost be the understatement of the year (Beaten only by some guy who said “boy that TAG guy sure likes penguins” …oh wait I think that was me)


By the way, anyone who did not get the above joke has clearly not spent much if any time amongst the collective mass of Madness & Deviancy we call the Daria fandom… you Lucky Bastards.


Anyhoo returning to the matter at hand, indeed DeMartino was having a good time.  The prospect of winning a load of money was now merely a pleasant bonus to the sheer joy he had experienced during his cross-country rampage, the acquisition of a tank only helped to further his enjoyment.


He let out another bout of maniacal laughter that so unsettled any police in the vicinity as he continued to accelerate in the tank, as he was overtaken by a familiar looking young man on a motorcycle he began to regret not encountering Kevin recently.


He had managed to reload again…



Mack decided that leaving Kevin back with the sabotaging simian (no I don’t know why I’m talking like a silver age comic-book writer either) was definitely a good idea.


First of all since it meant less chance of an eleventh hour screw up.


Secondly it lowered the chance of DeMartino taking pot shots at him.


And of course the third, rather obvious reason, he would have felt pretty stupid with Kevin behind him, he didn’t even want to think of what it would have looked like to have that ape as well.


Thankfully his decision to go solo meant he was spared the humiliation such an event would have brought about when he saw a somewhat bedraggled and familiar looking young lady walking along the side of the road.


“Jodie?”  He spoke as he slowed down, “What happened to you?  You decide instead of winning the race you’d have a swim or something?”


“Definitely the ‘Something’ …I kinda sorta had a run-in with a lake.”


“What did you do, use Brittney as a flotation device?”


“As a matter of fact yes, she was unsurprisingly buoyant.  Although the air in her head may have contributed.  She’s waiting at the lake for someone to dredge our car out; I figured she would be better at convincing people to help out.  Care to escort me to the finish line Mr Mackenzie?”


“Well now how can I say no to such a foxy mama in a wet bodysuit?  Hop on”


“And they say chivalry is dead.”  Jodie replied as she climbed onto the back of the bike, “Say where’s Kevin?”


“You don’t want to know”



“DUDE!  The monkey is not supposed to spank back!”





Noah Barkman observed the various events from the top of the Seattle Space Needle; the racers would soon be arriving at the hotel (hopefully, providing EVEN more didn’t eliminate themselves that is.)


He pressed the call button and awaited the elevator, pondering on how far his plan had gone, he had already heard that reports of people trying copy him, there was talk of ‘Dammitall Fever’ as Sick Sad World had dubbed it; spreading like wildfire.


His contemplation was interrupted as the elevator opened, confronting Noah with a strange sight indeed, in the form of a small red car somehow inside the lift.


“Dammit Clovis I told you that detour was a bad idea.”


“Frankly I’m still trying to figure out how you managed to turn the car around INSIDE the lift.”  Was all Carlotta had to say.


“Well we may very well lose.”  Clovis spoke rather Zen like, “But on the plus side at least we get a great view of the finish line.”  He then looked at the man in front of him, “Going down?”


Noah sighed, “I’ll take the stairs.”  And then made his way as quickly as possible, mainly as he heard the trio now arguing if they could jump from the tower to the hotel….



“Dammit Bork, where the hell is everyone?  I would have thought the streets would have been swarming with racers now.”  Flemming looked out the various windows, “All I can see are some rust bucket, a somewhat familiar police car, a young couple on a motorcycle and a TANK of all things!  How is it there are just four racers left?”


“Five chief, remember we entered as well.”


“Don’t remind me.”


“Well on the plus side Chief, we’re near the finish and it looks pretty close, so it should all be over soon.  Shame all these ones left looking forwards to that cool One Million Dollars.  Boy I bet they’ll be disappointed when we arrest them all and no one gets the money huh chief?”


Agent Flemming was oddly silent;


“…One million dollars you say?”







“Whoa!” Jennifer exclaimed as the LTD shot past them.


“Totally,” Casey replied, “Guess we better put the second Nitrous canister to use, to hell with the consequences.”



“Well somehow we made it all the way.”  Jane commented.


“Yes indeed,” Tom answered as he changed gears, “Although it seems we have some serious competition, specially that LTD, it’s going like a bat out of hell”


Daria had remained silent for the last few minutes, until eventually she spoke up:


“Neither of you are to ever tell anyone I said this but.”  She took a deep breath before letting out a passionate yell “DRIVE TOM DRIVE!”


“Yes Ma’am.”  He replied before reaching for a single untouched button on the dashboard, “I was waiting for an excuse to press this.  Buckle up.”


At the buttons (Which just happened to be a little red button) press the car lurched into life and began to accelerate at a phenomenal pace, reaching a point where both the Jaguar and the police Mustang where neck and neck behind the LTD, however the Jaguar was showing signs of gaining and looked ready to overtake both of them…


That is until mere feet away from the finish line, a giant Eighteen-wheeler came out of nowhere and smashed the LTD out of the way!


“No…” Daria said weakly, “Not them…anyone but them…”


“Uh Huh Huh Huh, See Beavis I told you that shortcut was a good idea.”






Oh yeah, remember when I told you that by the end of this chapter we would know who the winner is?















Tune in next time for the thrilling conclusion, same Bat Time, same Bat Channel.


Racer 6 – ‘Man Crusher’ – Monster Truck – ELIMINATED

Racer 13 – ‘Girls on The Edge’ – Jaguar XJ Sedan - ELIMINATED

Racer 3 – ‘The J-Men’ – Original Mini Cooper - ELIMINATED

Racer 16 – ‘The Feds’ – Ford LTD - ELIMINATED


End of Chapter.

Chapter X – Or: The last chapter that covers all the dangling plot threads, shows some last minute twists, gives an epilogue with maybe room for a sequel and one last explosion, oh yeah, and shows who the winner is…I think I’ve lost my touch for short and snappy title names.


You know a part of me really doesn’t want to write this chapter, I’ve had such fun writing this fic that I don’t want to end it, sadly that would mean making the remaining racers continue racing for a long time, and what with the global warming and possible impending fuel crisis I decided that for the greater good I should call this to a close…also if I don’t reveal the winner soon you folks are gonna kill me.



When we last left our intrepid/insane/idiotic (delete as appropriate) racers the race seemed to be a close match between the Jaguar, the Mustang, and the LTD, with the LTD of Agents Bork and Flemming being the one in the lead.


This all changed when a surprise re-entry by Beavis and Butt-Head in their eighteen wheeler that made their return in typical B&B fashion, by smashing the LTD out of the running, (ironic that it was Agent Flemming who provided the truck and had them in the race in the first place.)  Now it seemed the race was about to be won by a pair of …you know I really don’t think there are words that can do justice to describing those two really, either way things looked grim, still the other racers still had traces of hope.



“We have no hope of winning now.”   …Ok so maybe I was wrong.  As we can see here Daria is expressing her usual positive attitude towards life, the universe, and I’m stopping there before I incur the wrath of the spirit of Douglas Adams.


“I see you’re being your usual positive self.”  Tom replied in an obvious attempt by me to pad for time or increase the word count, which if you think about it, me writing this is also serving that purpose, is this the first post-modern fanfic or simple bad writing?


Tom continued speaking, unaware of the sudden meta-textual divergence that had taken place a mere 3 lines above him, “I mean sure it looks grim but I’m sure we have a chance.”


“I don’t think so I mean look at them, their inches away from the finish line” Jane replied, “…and their still inches from the finish line…have they stopped?”



“Heh heh m heh he heh WOAH!”


“Uh Huh-Huh Huh, dude that is one big dead bug!”


“Yeah, hehe, waitaminute, Butt-head aren’t we supposed to be like doing something?”


“Uhhh oh yeah, settle down Beavis, I’ll find the windshield wipers.”


Its possible that the two were hypnotised by the wipers or just amazed at the dead bug but who knows, they still managed to stay true to themselves and snap defeat from the jaws of certain victory.


What this does mean is that the race is now anyone’s game again.



“Tom don’t you ever get sick of being right?”


“Of course not.”  He said as he pressed down on the accelerator, “Now we practically have this in the bag…” although the last words did trail off as the Police Mustang shot past them and crossed the finish line.


“You were saying?” Daria replied, the sting of defeat at least tempered by the sweet irony of the situation.


“Being wrong however is something I have yet to get used to.”  Tom replied as they crossed the line themselves, “Besides” he continued as he glanced in the rear-view mirror, “second place isn’t too bad, at least we beat that lunatic in the tank.”



“Well God DAMN It!” DeMartino yelled as he climbed out the tank, watching the last few remaining racers cross the line in whatever order (oh like it matters anymore) “I SUPPOSE it was a good THING that I DIDN’T bet on MYSELF after all.”


As DeMartino finished extracting himself from the tank, Daria, Jane and Tom approached the winners who had gotten out of their car and where performing an impromptu victory dance.


“Congratulations Jennifer,” Jane said “guess we won’t be seeing you around school much now with you new fortune.”


“Hell Yeah!”  Jennifer replied, giddy with the sensation of victory, “now I can buy Shaggy’s time machine and have fun!”


Daria raised an eyebrow, “Time machine?”


“Sorry folks,” the ‘Shaggy’ in question replied, “She just hadn’t been the same since that trampoline incident…or was it the time with the uneven bars?  Ah who am I kidding she’s always been this weird.”


“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”  Tom quipped before holding out his hand, “Congratulations to you, that was some impressive driving back there.”


“Thanks, no hard feelings huh dude?”  Shaggy replied as he shook Tom’s hand, “That’s cool, you weren’t too bad a driver yourself, some of those turns you pulled where almost as sharp as that suit…say that gives me an idea…”


With that Casey and Tom wandered away from the others, speaking covertly to one another, the mention of a photograph could be made out though.



“Well 4th place isn’t so bad I guess” Mack said as he leaned against his bike, “You still got your race card thingy?”  He asked Jodie who was leaning against him.


“Ah nutbunnies, I think I left it still in the glove compartment…”


“It sank with the car huh?”


“No Brittney should have it.”


“What?  But you just said…” The gears in Mack’s head turned.  “Oh.”


“Where else was I going to keep the map?  May as well have been somewhere easy to reach.”


“Honestly Jodie that sounds like something Upchuck would come up with…speaking of which, wonder whatever happened to him and Ted?”





Oh like you thought they would have even tried leaving.



“Who knows,” Jodie replied, “still at least we actually made it across the finish line, least we didn’t wind up like those guys in the black LTD, imagine getting so near yet so far.”


“Tell me about it, how humiliating is that?”


Of course we know that the drivers of said vehicle, over the course of this journey have become acquainted with humiliation frequently to the point that they are not only on a first name basis but also on the Christmas card list.



The LTD in question, when struck by the aptly named (if misspelled) ‘Deth Truk’ had been slightly crushed as well as being knocked on its side where it had skidded along until it had stopped just short of the finish line, practically mocking them with its closeness.


“Chief you ok?”  Agent Hurley looked over her shoulder at the figure pressed up against the window with a perfect view of the ground.


“Scenario number two, Coop went to Disneyworld!”  Flemming cried as he stood up, dazed and very confused, an act which caused the car to tip over and finally cross the finish line, at least half the car anyway.


“He’s fine” Agent Bork replied as he opened his door and stepped out, then sighed as he saw Flemming trying to open his own, he opened the door and watched Agent Flemming go sprawling out onto the floor.


“Oh for…” Bork looked up to the sky, “Is this still about the whole X-5 Unit fiasco?”



“Hey look” Mack spoke as he saw the sprawling figure attempt to get to his feet, “Isn’t that Robert Stack?”


Said sprawling figure finally did manage to make it to a standing position and straightened his tie before announcing himself, “Agent Flemming GTA!”


“You stole your car as well?”  Jodie replied, “Whew and here I thought I was the only one.”


“You know chief I think if we don’t get results we’re going to be in a lot of trouble.”


“Oh just shut up Bork, I made sure that anyone involved in this knew to deny any knowledge of me and this job if it failed, there will be no way for the higher ups to ties us to this if it all goes to hell.  Now come on you idiot and lets go get whoever cheated us out of my million bucks.”


“You mean OUR Million right chief?”


Oblivious to the others around him (Especially Bork) Flemming approached Jennifer, his sight set on apprehending the winner of the race first, “Well missy, how do you all feel now you have raped the American highways?”


Jennifer paused and looked deep in thought before she finally replied,





“Jane I you think we should be making a swift exit, I’ve just remembered where I last saw that lunatic.”


“What you know that weirdo?”  Jane replied, confused, “He an old teacher from Highland or something?”


“Not quite, the guys a high ranking ATF agent…”


“Former ATF agent actually.”  Casey replied as he re-emerged with Tom “the guy is now an agent of the Government Traffic Alliance, although he doesn’t actually have any way to prove this, I took care of that.”


“You have his badge?”  Daria replied incredulously.


“Not anymore.”  Casey replied with a grin.


“If you’ll excuse me ladies,” Tom said as he cleared his throat, adjusted his tie, and attached a fake moustache to his face that had been procured from who knows where “you are about to see why the Fielding Amateur Theatrics Society have me on speed dial.”


As he proudly walked off, Jane looked at Daria,


“A swift exit you say?


“Actually” Daria replied with a thoughtful expression, “I’ve just had a very wicked idea, be right back.”


Jane watched Daria catch up with Tom and whisper several things into his ear before shrugging and deciding to go enjoy the show.





Agent Flemming turned to some young man in a suit looking at him with an expression of annoyance.


“None of your business kid.”


“Oh I think it is,” Tom replied, trying to suppress the grin as he flashed the badge, “Agent Goldfarb, GTA!”  He let this sink in but before Flemming could reply he began by speaking angrily, “We’ve been investigating reports of people impersonating both GTA and ATF personnel, now lets see some ID mister.”  Tom took extra pride in putting the emphasis on lower class m on the ‘mister.’


Agent Flemming began to look nervous, “Ah…well you see sir, I don’t happen to have my badge with me at the moment, it was stolen by this young woman and her associate who have been masquerading as police officers…”


“A likely story!  I’ll have you know that Officers Reynolds and DeLuise have been assisting me in tracking down the suspects, and it seems they’ve done a perfect job.”  He then turned to the confused looking woman who had finally made her way out of the busted LTD, “Agent Hurley!”




“I want you to take this scumbag” Tom turned to look at Flemming and gave an evil grin, “and give him a cavity search, I’m talking rotor-rooter, don’t stop till you reach the back of his teeth.’


“You can’t do this!”  Flemming yelled as a confused Hurley grabbed his shoulder, “Bork set this young upstart straight God Dammit!”


Agent Bork looked at Flemming before answering, “This man is a lunatic, he had me hostage claiming to be a GTA agent, but I’m sure if you call the organisation and ask them they’ll deny ever knowing of him, Agent Hurley you heard Agent Goldfarb, get on with that cavity search, and you heard what he said, keep going till you find the lost treasure of the Sierra Madrid!”



“Mr DeMartino should we do anything about this?”


“An EXCLLENT question Ms Landon,” Mr DeMartino replied, remembering the treatment he received when mistaken for an illegal alien, “One I CAN definitely ANSWER with a firm HELL NO!”


“Good enough for me.”



As Agent (but probably not for much longer) Flemming was lead away by Agent Hurley, (who had decided that the best way to react to the confusing turn of events was to go with the flow and protect her own ass…even if it was at the sake of another) the others who had been watching with amusement turned as they heard the sound of clapping.


“Ladies and Gentlemen!”  Noah shouted at the assembled racers as he descended the hotel steps, “Congratulations on comple…this is it?”


Since those of you counting may have gathered, only 4 racers have actually crossed the finish line at this time, well 5 if you count Flemming and Bork, Beavis & Butt-head are still stopped just short of the line.


“Well this is an interesting turn of events.”  Noah shrugged as he approached the winners, “As the winning team of the first Dammitall Run I present you your prize of one million dollars.”  With that he reached into his pocket and removed a chequebook.


He then turned to address the remaining contestants, “And since I’m in such a good mood” he neglected to add “not to mention considerably richer since I won the bet on who would win.” but continued instead with “I have decided that anyone who actually makes it to the finish line is gonna get a cash prize, sure it wont be a million dollars but hey consider it a reward for making this so interesting, not to mention a hell of a lot of fun.”


As he approached the first person with his chequebook at the ready he paused and looked at the man, “I can’t say I remember seeing you at the start sir…”


“I’m racer 16, nicknamed ‘The Feds’ sir.”  Bork replied hurriedly.




“What was that?’




Shrugging, Noah handed a cheque to Agent Bork who looked at it, kissed it, and grinned as he thought “Screw the government, I’m off to Rio!”



Noah next approached Mack and Jodie, “You two in a team together?”


“Yes” the two replied simultaneously,


“Good for you, here you go, nice bike.”


As he moved on to the next person the two looked at each other, “You want to use this to deal with your Dads car?”


“Hell no!”  Jodie replied before giving Mack a quick kiss, “But thanks for offering, what’s say we take this money and blow it on a weekend you’ll never forget?”


“Ms Landon I like the way you think.”



Daria, Jane and Tom watched as Noah attempted to remove an in tears and overly grateful DeMartino who had latched himself to Noah’s neck before looking down at their own cheque.


“Well it ain’t a million split 3 ways but its nothing to sneeze at.”  Tom said after a pause.


“Guess you can add a hot tub to that Montana cabin now huh Amiga?”


“I don’t know, after that performance Tom you deserve the whole thing, “I mean we didn’t really do anything.”


“Oh are you kidding?  No way would I have made it through this whole thing on my own, the boredom would have killed me after the first day, you two deserve a share for entertainment alone.”


Before either Daria or Jane could respond they all turned as they heard the sound of trundling wheels, all three where reasonably surprised to see a spiky-green haired familiar face riding a skateboard across the finish line.


“Hi guys, so who won?” after a few seconds he added, “Tom when did you grow that moustache?”


“Waz you may want to talk to Noah quickly, after all he did say it didn’t matter what you crossed the line on as long as you had the card.”


“Wuh?”  Was all Wasabi had to say, once the situation was explained to him he looked positively crestfallen, “ah crap, Clovis still has the card, I left him with Carlotta as he was trying to figure out how to get the car off the top of the space needle.”


“Only Clovis could or would manage that.”  Jane replied as she shook her head, “Wonder if he’ll be able to get it down anytime?”


“Oh…” Tom said as he looked up into the sky, “I don’t think he’ll have to worry about that…”


“BANZAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!  Was the growing sound from above that got everyone looking up, as suddenly a red original Mini Cooper landed on the ground in front of them, seemingly no worse for wear than if it had merely hit a bump in the road.


Clovis jumped out the car grinning as usual, “See Carlie I told you I could make the jump, hey guys, how’s it going?”


“Clovis, card, now!”  Wasabi snapped sharply, then took the card from his friend and ran into the hotel as he was heard to cry “oh Mr Barkman!  You missed one”


“That guy is so weird” Clovis sighed before looking into the car, “isn’t that right Carlie…Carlie?”


In the passenger seat of the car sat Carlotta, pale as a sheet and her hands dug into the dashboard, letting out a whimper of “I actually thought he was bluffing…”


“We better get her inside” Jane said as she helped Carlotta out the car, “Give me a hand will you Tom?”


“Sure Jane” he said as he took Carlotta’s other arm, “You two probably should come in as well, I think I head Noah say that there would be a party with food and stuff, may as well celebrate right?”


“In a sec mate,” Clovis replied “I’ve been in that car for so long I need to stretch my legs for a little, you go right on ahead and save me a space alright?”


“Will do, what about you Daria?”


“I could use some fresh air as well, and besides one of us has to keep an eye this guy.”


“Fair enough and good point” Jane replied, “We’ll save you some munchies, come on Carlotta” Jane continued with a leer, “I know what’ll get you un-catatonic, lets go get you a good stiff…”




“I was going to say Ultra Cola, jeez”


As the three went indoors Clovis turned to Daria, “So did we enjoy ourselves on this little jaunt?”


“I suppose you’d have to be crazy to enjoy this sort of thing, you know, lawbreaking, reckless driving, blowing crap up, so no doubts you had a blast.”  Daria replied.


“That a trick question?  Of course I bloody did, but I don’t think you answered my question did we?  Can we be a bit nervous about admitting we reacted to this with more than just mild indifference?”


“OK Clovis yes I had fun,” Daria replied with a sigh, “You react to psychological walls as if your some sort of siege engine you know that.”


“Attagirl” Clovis replied with a grin as he slapped her on back, “So what’s say you get inside and have some more fun?”


Daria winced “If it means you wont do that again then sure,” as she walked on she delivered the old favourite, the Mona Lisa smile, “you know what, this was pretty fun Dammit, pretty Damn fun indeed.”


“Damn right!”  Clovis replied with his preferred borderline insane grin, “and who knows,” he continued after a pause.


“Maybe next year, we'll do this again?”


The End.