Chapter #6Your Weekly Road Safety PSA by: We Smile   In the middle of a peaceful meadow, a shrubby knoll glossy with morning dew and glistening with the dawns first rays of light, the cool breeze of spring blew past and combed the carpet of grass and leaves with a soft caress. Many buds born in this field would bloom to life this very day; and all the creatures that dwelled around in burrows and nests would rise anew from one of the last chilly nights of the season and behold the renewing scene.
Such tranquility was best reflected in a watering hole lost under the canopy of thin green blades, but known well by all the meadow’s denizens as a mirror of the sky, fenced by a tall emerald picket wall, waving and rustling lazily in the wind. And at that pond, one early riser was starting the wonderful day quenching some thirst with a hefty drink of the fresh, clear spring. It was no less than a fluffy, fuzzy ball of dirty-creamy cotton. The feral Eevee, one of the youngest of the litter from a nearby burrow, was on its way to finally unravel the mystery of the broad gray frontier of the plains.
The Forbidden Frontier, as it was known among its circle of friends, was a place shrouded in mystery from the edging lands on the meadow. There, it was rumored that a mirror world existed on the other side of this boundary, full of many treasures and berries, where mons like those it knew lived and tried too to cross into their world. But it was also a dangerous place; where many unwary visitors had suddenly vanished from without a trace, and where humongous titans wandered and scared away all winds with their bellowing roars.
Today the Eevee would find this uncharted land, and set out to explore it to its heart’s desire. Shortly after the quencher, it had reached the last turnback before the field’s edge with the dour flat trench. It was a thin post towering above the grass bed with an attached board at the top, sort of a landmark amongst the wild roamers more familiar with the zone, and how kitten critters like the Eevee knew they had strayed too far from home. Right next to this target, one could see a stone surface outstanding from the dirt with nary a blade of grass on it, hidden behind a curtain of tall grass; the Forbidden Frontier itself. If the kit peeked its head outside the wall of green, it could actually see the fabled Mirror World, just at the other side of the stretch!
And of course, if it just poked out a bit more…
*Fwoooooom*
But of course, that post was unfortunately close to a nearby road heavy with transit where mighty machines screeched past at deadly speeds, cutting sides between halves of the field, and mercilessly trampling over anyone caught in their path trying to cross the border.
The poor little puppy was just barely spared from such a fate; its little head had missed the scorching mark of the wheels by mere inches. Its short life flashed before its eyes and reflected in an instant on the twin metal plates of spinning death that blasted past him; its day-to-date in the first pass, and the gruesome splat of its demise in the following. That vision alone bleached its face and froze its blood.
Today it had learned a valuable lesson. Never once it would try to walk over that fiendish path, not as long as those infernal machines patrolled it; there had to be a to cross this barrier, and it would find how for sure.
Meanwhile...
Already a few miles away, a single beat down coach raced alone on the lonely country track with its roof down, letting its passengers’ coats get completely mangled by the drafts. Cruising in this rust rocket of yesteryear, blasting the best beats of a grandparent’s generation for all the speakers were worth, and scheming nothing but ill deeds in their fervent, mischievous minds; a party of four freshmen was well on its way to get the best out of the nightlife at the town over from home.
The seedy underbelly clubs, the mind-flaying substances galore,
The lifetime-without-parole illegal sex acts, lots and lots of chums to devour.
And much, much more!
This was the quest for the ultimate debauchery.
“Alright you jerks, this is it.”
At the helm of the wheel was a vixen with a knack for getting everyone under her spell and a twiggy branch where her hair pin should be, like a damn flower child; a Braixen by the name of Helga, or ‘Hot-Rod’ to her limited circle of friends, and ‘Uber-Bitch’ to everyone else, including her limited circle of friends. A single paw on the wheel was all she needed to drive well over the limit, or that’s what she thought anyway; the other was well busy dusting off debris from her jacket. “Either this is the best fucking spring break of our lives, or I’m going to drive this car into a ditch on the way back home.” At the snap of her slim black fingers, she had everyone else’s view at her disposal, just like that.
“Fine by me, I’ll take the bus anyway.”
On the co-pilot’s seat there was the second of the bunch, a stunning bunny-hunny in charge of keeping the mood light with the proper soundtrack for the trip, and thankfully, her graceful charm and tight sweater had helped her to “persuade” the station attendant to acquire the means, free of charge. Bonnie was this Loppunny’s name, lovingly chosen by her parents in spite of being the most tired moniker chosen for a buckteeth in the history of the language; although the one given to her by her friends, ‘Hatchback’, wasn’t that much better either. It was fitting, and kind of flattering, but seriously, she just had the worst luck with names.
“Um… Alright… But I’ll get off first…”
Behind the rabbit’s plushy and soon-to-be ill sit hind, the next passenger raised whatever notch of volume she could muster to chirp. For a breed of bird whose highest place is the fighting ring, this chicken was much more prone to bury her head in the sand. Clad from wing to wing in a mesh vest that pushed out her down and a squeaky pink sleeveless jacket, a ribbon of the same cloth tied loosely around her crest, and a silvery ornament on the tip of her beak; this Combusken’s outfit was the loudest part of her person; because if one’s eyes could talk, everyone’s would screech in agony at the clash of tones. Of those few that she trusted with her name, not one ever bothered to call her Becky; instead these round of friendly people (and Helga) named her ‘Bucky’, or ‘Bucket’, for reasons that only they knew and she surely would regret to know if asked.
“That’s the idea, hun.” The rabbit could actually care less for her vulpine friend’s threat, and she saw no reason that the shy bird should worry either; they were going to be busy having the best time of their lives, and that included that vanilla-vulpa bitch as well. Besides, if Bonnie has her way in this trip, she won’t even fit back in her seat anyway, so it ceased being her problem the moment she stepped in town.
“Like hell you’re shitting on my car like that.”
Scrunched in behind the driver’s seat, with his knees sunk against the driver’s seat and only marginally away from the Braixen’s back, there was the final passenger; the round peg in a row of triangle holes, so to speak. Perhaps Bucky was the least talkative member present, but at least she made herself noticed; the Ursaring, on the other hand, would pass off as luggage under a tarp if it wasn’t for three holes sprouting one grizzly snout and two bulky arms sticking out of the snug long poncho of his attire, and even then, his cap hid well his face for the most part. Tommy, or ‘Tank’ as he was known in the group, hadn’t been in the best of moods since his license got suspended a week before the big trip; but if what they had heard from those underground clubs was true, he would have his paws, his very being stuffed full of distractions to cope.
“It’s a deal, then.” The fox asked with the conviction of a hard seller, extending her free paw above the gap between the rows of seats waiting to seal the pact.
“Ka-Chiiing!” Bonnie was the first to respond, the fluff of her wrist engulfing the fox’s paw almost entirely. Looking over, she noticed that both the bear and the bird looked hesitant to respond, Bucky’s clawed wing trembling itself featherless while slowly approaching the hold, and Tank looking at the chick sternly, waiting for her commitment. She nodded some confidence over to the Combusken, who then thrust her wing and lost its tip in the fluffy ball.
“Sure, it is… You’re not going to really crash us, right?..”
“Damn right it is. And she won’t, or I’ll shove her head up Hatchi’s ass.” With the better half of the group backing up the promise, Tank finally joined the vow, his paw surprisingly fitting inside the wooly cloud as well.
“Take your freaking turn, and don’t think that I’ll fit that hairdo in the trunk, I only want my own fur tangled down there.” Bonnie ran a finger through the swabby patch of her tush. Not a single hair that wasn’t hers; that’s how she planned it to stay.
“Knowing him, he’ll be too passed out in shots to do anything good.” If that sly fox knew anything well, is that the bear’s threats were as hollow as hers.
“Never too drunk to put you in your place.” And if Tank ever needed to know something at all, it was to know how to retort, or otherwise keep his maw shut.
“Which is one step ahead of you, always, and you do that quite well already.”
A low chirp blown to whistle prevented an argument from breaking out between the two; no doubt Bucky’s most useful talent. When it was all said and done, the four friends choked the other’s paws in the hold and shook it down hard. The pact sealed, Hot-Rod pressed down on the pedal, rushing their arrival to the first of many stops in their Nom-Country cruise, and all four cheered in unison as they raced down the road.
“Let’s go!”  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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