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Rated: E · Short Story · Comedy · #2103747
New Teslapathic car is on the market. What could go wrong? Writer's Cramp entry.
Where’s My Car?


Finally time to pick up my new car. Or rather, have my car come and get me. Yep, it’s the new Tesla Ego, and man I’m gonna blow the chicks with this baby!

Can’t believe they even managed to figure how to meld your mind with the car. Thought controlled autos wasn’t even covered in all the TechBlurb bulletins I had to wipe from my consciousness. CarThoughts never mentioned it in any of their thoughtbursts the last few months.

A good thing I’ve been saving the last few decades for my next car — I managed to have enough credits for the Tesla. That’s only cause I’d promised myself the next car I’d buy would be the first flying car. Really, a flying car. Don’t laugh. I just knew they were close to nailing that one down. I mean, after they successfully engineered self-driving cars back in the early part of the century. Keeping cars from crashing by using sensors. That was just the beginning.

Then they mastered the software to where computers could think for themselves. You know . . . reason, and make judgements. Even create things. They were actually building new and better versions of themselves! What’s next? Flying cars, right?

And I needed a new car so badly. Cars were lasting half a century, but they still had problems. Well, not breaking down or anything, what with engines running on hydrogen, and the bodies virtually indestructible. But they did look older than the newer versions. And the paint! Sure they all had the color-changing X-paintZ that changed with your moods. But everybody’s moods got so noncomprende. Now with the new lens implants everybody can see what colors they want to see on your car. Wonderful! Except for the cars from the pre-sixties. And we’re in the after-eighties! I’m so eighties, I’m told.

So, yeah. It’s time to dump the ol’ TrumpZ5. I’m gonna miss that girl. The best Zombie-proof car available.

But now these new thought cars are the hottest thing on the market. And priced out of range for the average Joe. Not me. What’s two trillion credits anyway? Spend it while I can, is what I’m thinking.

Now then. What island was I thinking of buying? Hawaii? No, wait. Something about a car. Madagascar, right?

Anyway, time for dinner. Did I remember to take my AntiAltz pill at lunch. Wouldn’t want to have a bout of alzheimer when I drive to . . . where I was going?




Word Count 416
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