This site is under the effects of resurrection. Content is likely fictitious, possibly AI generated. Links will be broken. Sentinels may be watching.
BCLW: Captain, I have got tone. Permission to fire?
BCBW: Roger that. Opening the auxilary weapons hatch now.
There was this one time when a gathering of about 6 or so of us decided to head out to the haunted town of Wilkeson, WA. It's haunted, trust me. Any way this story isn't about that town, but the adventure we had getting there.
I was the proud owner of a 1989 Blue Daytona ES { non-turbo } and my friend had this Camaro with a large 4-cyl (o.k. Rob, it was a 2.8 Liter V6...) It actually looked nice enough though, jet black, some subs, lowered a touch. My Daytona wasn't much to look at, but it wasn't bad either. I had a little surprise for Rob that day. TWO words: OCTANE BOOSTER. After dumping twice the legal limit of OCTANE BOOSTER into my car and filling the tank, we set out on our drive.
From Puyallup, we headed down into Orting, and into the valley towards south prairie, and Carbonado. As we passed Orting, the freeway cleared, and we let ‘em rip. Slowly overtaking the Camaro, the Daytona eventually pulled ahead before we got to a curve. It felt like I was hauling Ass at maybe 54Mph. I slowed down, and kept rob in my rearview. Here is where the fun really began!
Picture the scene: I was wearing the typical blue jeans and a rock T-shirt covered by my black leather jacket. Aaron was in his BRAND NEW Miami Dolphins coat, with an attached hood and Double Flat Moose insulation. Rob was with the wife of his friends dad. Said friend was also in his car. At that time my girlfriend of the week was Gina, or Mary, or Tanya, or Susan.. Our Blue and Black cars were streaking through the night roads without a COP in sight. The roads were mostly flat, and bordered by cow pasture, and spotted with fir groves. We were all hopped up on Mt. Due, and smoking Lama Wides.
The purpose of this trip was that we wanted to send a supply of fireworks off THE bridge, but we were too eager to light them . So what did we do? Yep, you guessed it!
Aaron grabbed some fireworks, and a lighter that he had stolen from someone on that day. It was typical of him to steal about 3 lighters a day on average. He once peaked at a dozen. One time, the steam plant was running low on coal, but they got a mysterious "DONATION" of these lighters, and it fueled the plant so well, it produced electricity for 20000 homes for 3 days! But that's a whole other story...
Then all of the sudden, I hear it. "Bomber 1, the target is in my sights permission to fire..." I reply " Roger that. Opening the auxiliary weapons hatch now" Next, a missile comes shooting out of the back of my car, towards the black Camaro hitting it around the left passenger wheel with a small explosion, but no significant damage. "We hit. I repeat, the target was HIT" I then requested confirmation of target destruction. After hearing "Negative, the target was NOT destroyed." I yelled back "Close the hatch!" Aaron acknowledged, pulled down the hatch, and prepared to reload.
This went on for a few miles, until we scored a direct hit on the windshield, and Rob got PISSED. So we were now in "Evasive Maneuvers" mode literally DODGING missiles in a moving car! All the while, we were still attacking the car behind us. Aaron prepared the last of our missiles, we had two left.
He must have got a little bit excited and accidentally aimed the first "Missile" backwards. It shot around the inside of my poor blue Daytona, finally coming to rest somewhere with a loud bang, and a lot of smoke. As Aaron prepared to take his final shot, he noticed a faint odd burning plastic smell... The Last missile went off without a hitch, and Aaron retreated to the Co-Pilot's seat.
It was some time later when we finally stopped at "the last place you can get gas" in Wilkeson. Little did we know that this was no longer a safe place to be! For upon our arrival as we got out of the car on that cold and crisp evening, we noticed that Aaron had grown a smoky mohawk! As we pointed and laughed, He turned to see that his brand new jacket's hood had become the final resting place for one of our missiles, and continued to smolder. It burned a HUGE hole in his brand new jacket. Knowing his mom would be pissed, he did what came naturally. HE DUCT TAPED IT!
Copyright © 2007 Paul Carhuff Click here to go HOME