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The volcanic swelter of the blacktop suburban streets drifted in corduroy lines up toward the plastic sky. Cassidy spun the wheel and whipped around the corner onto Elm street, grooving to the beat of electric static ZAPS wired into HI-FI speakers throughout the bus. There was a parking spot up on the right, but it was a little tight and Cassidy hated parallel parking.
“Gee Ken, that seems a little tight. Maybe I should let you and the Pranksters out here and see if I can find a lot somewhere.”
“No way, man, we need to push the scene further. Do that trick where you put on a blindfold and park in one day-glo turn while rolling a joint and sipping a Mai Tai.”
“Why do you keep saying that? You know I’m not a strong driver, and I think this is a school zone.”
“That’s the Man speaking, man. What’s wrong with you?”
Cassidy shrugged in his square, taciturn way and haltingly crept into the space. CRASH. He spun the wheel and inched forward. CRASH. He spun the wheel back the other way again. CRASH. Spin wheel. CRASH. Spin. CRASH. CRASH. The rear end was still way out in the street.
“Groovy! It’s like the bus is wired directly into your scene, man. Now where’s that bottle of Yoo-hoo! Babbs spiked with Vitamin D?”
Date Written: June 11, 2004
Author: Ewan Snow
Average Vote: 2.5