She must return in the sequel with a mind for vengeance and fire
I promise you do NOT want to see where my RP goes if this happens. hahahaha
DIE, BITCH, DIE!!! upholsters her recliner with the tanned hide of Agent Black (a.k.a. “The Ponytail”)
… 
Wow, you’re nearly as mad as Vos when it comes to using people as upholstery 
I have a bit of weekend travel and work to do, hopefully during which I’ll get the next part and THE FINAL RESULTS out (I would say Monday evening my time, i.e. GMT +10)
She destroyed my beautiful M3!!! She deserves to die for that alone. THEN she tried to KILL me.
(And your “girlfriend” too, don’t forget 
)
Also in reality, your M3 is almost remaining in working condition. For most cars, the EMP hook, apart from punching holes in the bodywork or windows, won’t cause permanent damage to the cars. In fact, here’s the next round of…
FUN FACTS: DAMAGE REPORT for each car in the BSLL (not counting normal racing wear and tear of engine, drivetrain and tyres. Assume all engines need rebuilding and tyres are completely bald)
AED Griffin- a few scratches and dings but mostly intact
AMW Brimstone- somewhat damaged dampers due to several airborne stints otherwise ok
AR.MA. SD-01R- a few scratches and dings but mostly intact
Ascension Mephisto- a few scratches and dings but mostly intact
Baltazar Thanatos Estate- clean
Banks Debrauna Gumball Ed.- clean
Centauri Vindicator- swiss cheese, might as well rebuild the whole body. RIP.
Cottam Elegance DA- crumpled front, would take quite a bit of work at the panelbeaters but salvageable
Dalora Infernalis- a few scratches and dings but mostly intact
Decker Annihilator- a few scratches and dings but mostly intact
E30 LS7 M- several scratches and dings, a broken rear window and a head-sized dent in the right door
EGT Achernar X90- a few scratches and dings but mostly intact
Gemina XIII GTX- the rims will need replacing after running the spike strip, also, the undertray is wrecked. Otherwise, a few scratches and dings but mostly intact
HFF- a few scratches and dings, somewhat battered due to excessive bumping
Leeroy Lunatic- several scratches and dings but in ok condition
Necronia Emperion- a few scratches and dings but mostly intact
Normandy Kodiak- swiss cheese, crumpled up, and pretty much wrecked. RIP.
Peapod GG Tune- engine bay is a mess due to exploding engine. Cracked shell due to running into barriers at high speed. RIP
Raggari Mutant- a few scratches and dings but mostly intact
RB-02- a few scratches and dings but mostly intact
Ruby- fairly bent out of shape due to excessive bumping
Sleipnir- completely and utterly destroyed and lying in about a thousand pieces along Dottinger Höhe. RIP
Testis- a twisted wreck lying in about a thousand pieces at Aremberg. RIP
The Hulk- a few scratches and dings and maybe the chrome bumpers are dented. Actually stopped due to running out of fuel
YCB Yacare ULTRA X- a few scratches and dings but mostly intact
That is, as far as I can recall off the top of my head. If that’s not consistent with what I’ve written or your impression do let me know!
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Ah the advantage of ladder frame chassis, time to get another body to bolt on! Maybe this time it can fit wider tires.
Well, she wasn’t my “girlfriend”. She was the daughter of a friend who had computer skills and wanted excitement in her life. 
As for the M3, the dent in the door and scratches/dings makes it not perfect, therefore she “destroyed” my beautiful M3!!!
well yes to be sure we know that (about aixa), or at least, anybody who was paying attention should 
I’m just facetiously referring to Black’s taunt.
haha yeah, forget her. Ponytail needs to have her head shaved and a car parked in her ass (but not my M3) permanently. The world has no use for robotic wenches who are angry with the world for being open-minded.
Aixa is a really nice girl, and probably my type too. Very homely (but still pretty), young, and not nearly as naive as her appearance suggests (she runs pen-testing for government contracts and high-profile corporations after all!) She’s also into men, so yeah, there’s that small issue.
At long last, the update with the actual goods. Without further delay, here it is:
[size=200]T[/size]he sun rose on smoke and sirens. The flashing lights of the police cars were joined by the flashing lights of ambulances and tow trucks, and the casualties of war, people and cars alike, were loaded up and bundled away with Germanic efficiency.
Unfortunately for one Sam Neil, there was no substitution for the good old Jaws of Life when it came to extricating him out of the completely twisted wreck that used to be Sleipnir. By some miracle the cabin cell had not buckled, despite Gryphon Gear’s habitual inattention to safety, and so it was everything else that was trapping him inside.
The moment the jaws had pried away enough that Sam was visible, still strapped inside and looking only slightly the worse for wear, Hannah scrambled up to what used to be the driver window and was now a cutaway section of the cabin. “Sam! Are you okay?”
“Why yes,” Sam replied, “Thanks for as-“
“YOU IDIOT!” Hannah leapt into the exposed cabin and started pummelling a completely immobile and defenseless Sam. “YOU ASSHOLE! YOU WRECKED SLEIPNIR! WE DIDN’T PAY YOU TO STUFF OUR PROTOTYPE.”
“Hey!” Sam yelped, trapped by his harness and left with no choice but to cover up with his arms as Hannah beat the stuffing out of him. “That hurts! I’m not okay! I’m not okay!”
The enraged shrew had to be hauled out of Sleipnir by two police officers, and was later booked for affray and battery at the police station that served as a temporary lockdown while everybody who hadn’t ended up in hospital, awaited processing of their licenses and passports. The rest of the charges and alleged offences made for quite the list. Riley, Leo and Absolution got away with a mere and rather superfluous charge of reckless driving. The driver of the Lunatic, Harizvet, Niall, Matt, Aaron Cottam, Jason Necronia, Enry, Lothoren, Sturt Decker Jr., Georgi Truchev , Seba Machado III, Sam Neil, and the Mysterious Italian driver (who turned out to look suspiciously similar to a certain active and successful WTCC driver), were all handed an additional charge of attempting to evade arrest. In addition to these charges, Tom was booked for having (and using) illegal modifications in his car, but fortunately Elena got off scot free seeing as she was purely a passenger on this particular ride. Yuri got done in not only for reckless driving and attempting to evade arrest, but assaulting several police officers in the process. Getting towards the somewhat more serious end of the spectrum, Strop, who had declined to go to hospital on account of still feeling okay, despite having a massive tampon shoved up his nostril to stem the bleeding, was also charged with the operation of an illegally modified projectile weapon. Among the driving charges, Kai Kristensen was also booked for theft of a law enforcement officer’s vehicle (“But I was just borrowing it! You can totally have it back.” Kai protested, to no avail.) Aixa was booked for her role in hacking a vehicle’s computer systems for the purpose of gaining remote access. And on Kristina’s rap sheet was the possession and use of an unlicensed firearm and melee weapon, and causing grievous injury with intent to commit murder.
The rest of the day passed by in a blur as everybody was moved, first to the relative safety of the Hotel Dottinger Höhe, and then bypassing the local county station at Adenau, which was clearly too small to house two dozen suspects at once, and trundled the sixty kilometres to the more centralised station in Koblenz, where they were herded into the cooler to await their fate and the outcome of whatever legal counsel they sought, had they elected to speak to the rather dour looking fallow deer with oversized antlers in a suit who purported to be their lawyer but rather looked like he couldn’t care what he was. One by one, they were called up for interview and left the cell. As minutes trickled by, the cell population dwindled, and the remaining occupants became increasingly bored. Strop was taking a nap, snoring out of his clogged nose. The others occupied themselves by huddling on the bench and betting on the outcomes of each case depending on how long it took to process. If it was only four or five minutes, it was probably a fine. Longer than that and they wondered whether an argument would break out, just to liven things up. But even Kristina, who faced the most serious charges of all, had used her phone call and had her crack underground connections on the case to plead a case of self-defence, which, provided it was properly done, was actually pretty self-evident.
It was when several officious-looking people in fancy looking uniforms walked into the station that the true reality of the situation started to sink in. And the remaining onlookers thought they might have the spice they hoped for, when Rayyan was called into the interview room.
Casual as you please, Rayyan lazily returned salute from the surrounding officers before plonking himself into the folding chair, a bored look on his face. “Let’s get this over with.”
Along with the dead-inside lawyer, seated opposite him was no longer the Polizeihauptkommisar, but now the Polizeidirektor, with three gold stars on his lapels. Both stared at Rayyan with disapproval.
“Marshall Rayyan Rawat,” the lawyer deadpanned. “Doubtless you are aware why all these officers have gathered here.”
“If it’s about my medal for leadership in an emergency situation, you can send it in the mail.” Rayyan grinned.
One of the officers in the background stepped forward, his blue uniform and striped sleeve insignia denoting him as an officer of the Royal Air Force. “Marshall,” he began, struggling to keep a straight face with a vein clearly bulging out from his temple.
“At ease, Commodore…” Rayyan peered at the patch over his breast pocket. “Holsworthy,” Rayyan waved him down.
“I am the commandant of the Royal Air Force squadron stationed in Belgium.” He cocked his eye at Rayyan expectantly.
“That’s excellent,” Rayyan clapped. “Your forces were absolutely invaluable in this crisis situation.”
Commodore Holsworthy stiffened and turned a deeper shade of red. “With all due respect Marshall, those jets are reserved for use for NATO support. Scrambling them without obtaining proper authorisation is a serious breach of the code of conduct of-“
“Commodore,” Rayyan rolled his eyes. “I don’t expect you to understand given you were not on the scene, but the situation was time critical and it would be easily proven that my decision achieved the best possible outcome.”
“Be that as it may Marshall Rawat,” piped up a uniformed officer from behind Rayyan, whom he belatedly recognised was a member of the Military Police, “A breach is a breach and is still subject to disciplinary action.”
“That’s fine,” Rayyan shrugged. “The pilots operated on my command. I assumed responsibility for the situation. I’m sure you realise that is what is supposed to come with having a higher rank.” He winked at the officers.
“That’s precisely our point.” With that the MPs moved in and flanked Rayyan on either side. “As the senior officer claiming responsibility, we must place you under arrest until you are extradited to the UK and to stand trial in the Military Courts.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rayyan scoffed. “I’m a marshall. What commanding officer is fit to trial me?”
“Of course it’ll be a Court Martial,” the lawyer advised him with the traces of a smirk. Rayyan sighed as he was escorted out of the station and into a waiting car. How inconvenient, after all, he was pretty sure this meant he wouldn’t make it to the afterparty.
Finally, just the crew of the Gryphon Gear team remained, left to sweat it out until last. Within the confines of the walls and bars of the cell, only the clock told the time. There was no sunlight or darkness or moon and stars, only the digital clock on the wall that told them that it was now the early hours of the morning. And, given the date on the paper that Kai was attempting to read out loud in broken German, legs propped up on the bench, it looked to be the final day of November.
“Was so… voll…vollst- Completely ze… fuck… zerst… zerstört… completely destroyed, that it no- it wasn’t mö- possible.”
“So, what was your grades like on school?” Sam interrupted, wide smile tired along with the rest of him.
Tesla, probably the one of them with the most energy, punched him on the shoulder. “Sam!”
“Hey!” Sam rubbed the spot with a grimace. “I’m just saying he reads really well. For a third grader…” The smile widened slightly.
“And you behave well for a toddler, don’t you.” She shot back, and nudged Kai, who had zoned out completely. “Continue.”
Sam stuck out his tongue at her, and crossed his arms, pouting. “Actually…” Strop leaned forward a bit on his seat. “Could you, perhaps…”
“Just read it in your head and tell us what it says.” Hannah ‘kindly’ helped out, tone clearly stating she had lost her patience with the stuttering reading several minutes ago.
“… that it wasn’t possible to identify whether the vehicle was a car or a light plane,” Kai finished lamely.
Strop leaned over Kai’s shoulder, nose scrunching up as he was faced with an impenetrable wall of German. “Does it say anything about the BSLL?”
Kai shook his head. “Nope, it’s all about a chase and a crash on the Autobahn. There’s no mention of anything else.” An immediate mixture of relief, and maybe just a tad of disappointment, wafted through the cell.
Just then, the cell door opened, and the lawyer in the suit that looked like a relative of Gryphon Gear’s own ‘deerector’ poked his head in.
“All of you, come with me.”
Hannah, Tesla, Strop, Kai, Sam and Noah all filed into the interviewing room, where, to their surprise, they found not only the lawyer and the German police, but also Der Bayer Von Awesome and Jack Cossack standing by. In silence, they sat down, and fidgeted while they waited for the lawyer to over-deliberately lower himself into the creaky folding chair. Strop could have sworn that making people sweat in suspense was how the lawyer got his kicks. What a pervert.
After about five minutes of staring at each other, the deer’s elbows propped on the table and hands folded, partially obscuring his face, he finally spoke.
“Good morning. My name is-“
“HELLO BAMBI!” Sam exclaimed, trying to lighten up proceedings with a big shit-eating grin and a proffered hand. In unison, the GG crew scowled at Sam. The lawyer didn’t smile either, merely leaned forward until his six and a half foot tall frame towered over Sam, antlers nearly scraping Sam’s face.
“My name is Kurt. You would do well to remember that, Mister Neil.” He said as evenly as he could, eyes narrowed into a squint. Sitting back, he resumed as if nothing had happened. “You are from the company Gryphon Gear, correct? I’m told that you are the hosts of the event to be held at Nordschleife, at which a certain terrorist was present. Suffice to say that in itself carries potentially serious ramifications for which you would need legal counsel, but I was advised that you already have your own legal division. So I took the liberty of calling her.”
There was a palpably horrified silence, after which Hannah muttered, “Yeah. Thanks. Appreciate it mate,” with as much sarcasm as she could muster. The laywer ignored her.
“Fortunately for you, there is a suppression order from very high up, on all of the events today related to that terrorist. Meaning it would be impossible to try you for most of the charges brought against you, much less convict and sentence you. The remainder of the offences, however, are listed here, and the balance is payable before we release you.”
With that, the lawyer handed them a docket, long enough that it coiled around itself. The Gryphon Gear crew took one look at it and collectively winced.
“As you can see, the bulk of that sum is due to estimated repair costs to the track. Be assured that it is only a fraction of the total cost, and much of it has been subsidized by… other parties. As for the rest, I will tell you everything as I have told the others. While you will not be facing any additional charges, this is a very delicate situation. We advise you to leave Deutschland as soon as possible. And obviously, don’t cause any more trouble before you leave. And possibly, try to stay away from Europe in general. For a few years.
“That’s all.” The lawyer waved them away. “Pay your fines at the cashier out the front. Your cars have been kept in the car park adjacent. Now get out.”
And with that, they were free, at least, after scrounging every last bit of cash and very nicely requesting the constable to escort them to the cars first so they could retrieve their stuff and, maybe, make up the difference, though they would have in reality needed a couple of zeros on the end to foot the bill, only to be told at the cashier that part of the bill had already been paid on their behalf. The fresh, damp morning air and the cold grey skies was bracing as they stepped out the front entrance of the Polizeipräsidium Koblenz, and into freedom. Stretching their arms wide, they took a deep breath and sighed in relief that all the action and tension and madness of the last month was winding to a close.
Just then, something started vibrating. It was Noah’s phone, nestled in his breast pocket.
“Uh oh…" He mumbled, and looked up at the others for… guidance? “It’s Dan.”
“Oh shit dude, that’s a howler,” Strop offered helpfully.
Noah grimaced and looked at the others, still holding the phone that was vibrating angrily in his hand. Hannah huffed. “Don’t just sit there. Take it.”
Noah didn’t need to be told twice, and pressed the screen. For a moment, nothing was heard, then he turned the screen towards the others, and the picture of Dan, complete with death glare and Assassin’s Creed T-shirt stared back at them.
“ARE YOU ALL COMPLETE LUNATICS?!” She yelled, making the speakers of the phone scratch uncomfortably. “Are you even aware how much trouble you are in, how much trouble your have pulled the company into? You should all be happy I wasn’t busy with anything, because you’re all going to be in… in… Ugh! And you, YOU!” She pointed angrily at them from the screen, though it wasn’t entirely possible to see who exactly she was pointing at. “You STOLE a POLICE CAR?!” Ah, Kai. Dan threw out her hands in frustration. “What were you thinking? No, nevermind, you weren’t, I kno-”
Kai leaned forward and pressed the screen with a highpitched “Boop!”, ending the call.
Noah turned the phone and looked at it. “Did you-”
“Better turn that off before she decides to call back.” Kai flashed him a grin. Noah just nodded slowly, still in shock, and did so. “You are a dead man.” Hannah too shook her head. “Yeah, nice knowing you, bro.” Tesla added, nudging Kai. Sam, apparently feeling left out, spoke up. “Uh, what just happened??”
Strop patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll find out when we get back to Australia.”
Jack Cossack adjusted his hat as he brushed by the group. “Jack!” Strop called after him, chasing him down just before he set off down the road. “I just wanted to say thanks for your help with all…” he motioned vaguely. “This. Really, we wouldn’t have made it through if the Mod Squad wasn’t here.”
“No problem. We were just doing our job,” Jack nodded modestly, before flashing a grin. “Thank YOU for creating this little slice of awesome. Now, if you will excuse me, I’m heading to the hospital.”
“Ah yes, how are Roland and the hobo?”
“Stable enough. Roland’s leg bones are back where they belong. The surgeons tell me the hobo might have to make do with a fake nose, though, apparently it’s impossible to reattach noses. But they’ll recover now that they’re no longer bleeding on the inside.”
Strop sighed in relief. “Well, good luck then. Do join us for the evening announcement. And the after party.”
“Will do.” Jack gave a small wave, and then he was off down the road. As for Strop and the rest of the crew, it was time to find a bed and crash into it.
“Welcome all, to the final announcement of the Barely Street Legal League.” In the twilight, at the edge of the river Mosel, Strop stood in front of the assembled crowd. “We’ve been through a lot together, so I would just like to extend my thanks to each and every one of you who made this an experience never to be spoken about, but always to be remembered.”
There was a little whoop and some applause, which quickly died down. “I’d also like to mention a couple of absences. Rayyan sends his apologies, as he was, apparently, deported back to the UK to stand trial in a court martial. Roland and the Hobo are recovering in the hospital, and I encourage you all the visit them before you head back home. And finally, let us spare a thought for our fellow competitor, Vos.” He gave a little salute. “Vos, you were one crazy bastard and you caused us a shitload of trouble, but no longer. Rest in peace.”
Several seconds passed, and the only noise was the background traffic, and the rustling of the wind over the water.
“Doubtless by now you are wondering about the final results of the tournament. The good news is that our data is all intact, so we have been able to put it all together. Thus, without further ado, I present to you, the final standings of the Barely Street Legal League!”
First, the final part of the Crazy Wheels stakes, the points awarded for tech year and layout:
And now the moment you’ve all been waiting (too long) for, the full standings for the Ultimate Street Legal Rider:
Congratulations to Leo Baltazar! In his own words, never underestimate the power of power. POWAAAAAAAA. Notable mention should go to Riley Banks, who actually produced an insanely well tuned FR coupe with no driving aids, or, perhaps I could say, the truest racer among us. Niall has also built a surprisingly strong car, one that punched well above its weight given just how crazy it was. But ultimately, it is no surprise that the Crazy Wheels award goes to Vos!
“So there you have it,” Strop called out amongst the general applause and congratulations and excited chatter. By this point, nobody truly cared about their exact places in the standings, those who had done better than expectation only feeling that little bit sweeter that they had gone through one of the craziest months of their lives and come out the other side in one piece. Finally, Hannah nudged Strop with a meaningful look and a quick zig-zag motion at her neck. Strop understood, and dispensed with dragging things out.
“Okay!” He shouted. “The Barely Street Legal League is now over! Drinks and karaoke at the Irish Pub, across the road, right now!”
“PARTY HARD, WOO!” Sam punched the air, and charged across the road, almost getting collected by a passing car along the way. But everybody else had picked up on the burning spirit, and with a roar of approval they set off and descended upon the bar, to illuminate the evening with their fire.
[ooc] Phew! I have one more part to write after this, but it’s all party-related. You’re free to write your own party bits, or else, suitable endings to your own character’s story (sorry Rayyan, I couldn’t quite let you off ENTIRELY scot free, but suffice to say I don’t think your court-martial will result in anything more than a slap on the wrist.) Also, unfortunately, 8bs and Vos aren’t able to make this particular party for obvious reasons 
That was 95000-ish words of crazy stuff going on there. Not too shabby. I’d like to extend a big thanks to behind-the-scenes guy Cen, who actually keeps track of everything and keeps the story structure held together even while I’m making it even more unstable. Sorry it spiralled a bit out of control and as a result I ended up releasing the final results 2 months after I intended to 
but I do hope you enjoyed yourselves, and it was worth it. As for the exact specifics of future plans, well, stay tuned to this thread and I’ll let you know once the story properly finishes with a big fat THE END 
1 Like
How the fuck did I get crazy wheels? I think I deserve a consolation prize for winning absolutely zero races though. lol
Guys … if you are planning to visit us at the hospital, please bring me a bottle of Gin…
PPPPPPPLLLLEEEEAAAAASSSSSEEEEEE
Kristina slams a shot glass down on the bar in a long line of shot glasses. The bartender, Conner, quietly cleans glasses behind the counter, glancing at the long row of empty shot glasses at the blonde’s seat. He rubs his hand, bandaged from the knife she jabbed through it after her 4th tequila shot, when he tried to clear the bar of empties. “I’ll take 3 more, pronto, Collin!” Conner quickly got her request without bothering to correct her. Almost as quickly as they had appeared, they disappeared. Talking to nobody, as nobody really wanted to speak to her in this mood, Kristina started shrieking about things she shouldn’t…
“Attempted murder? Attempted? Murder? If I ever find that uptight, crinkle-nosed, pony-tailed dyke who thinks she’s a “cop” riding around with a 70’s porn star wannabe using technology reserved for the military and STILL lost, she will wish she had died before she ever met me face to face! There won’t be charges next time. She will vanish into the ether without so much as a trace of her ever existing! But not before I remove her skin inch by inch, starting with her eyelids…”
ring ring “Hello? No, I wasn’t saying anything about what happened in Germany. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Very well. Yes, I will behave. I promise!”
After smashing the phone, certain the “group” was using her phone as a listening device to keep tabs on her after bailing her out of the trouble she had found herself in, Kristina motioned to Fiona, the vivid red head dancing alone at the juke box picking out songs. “Angel of Death” begain on the loudspeakers as Fiona ran over to have a seat and nearly fell to the floor as Kristina grabbed her hand and wisked her out to the dance floor for some good old-fashioned dirty dancing.
Damn you vosnox! 1 point from crazy wheels, 1 point!
The X90 was the most consistent car, it placed the same in the first race and in the final standings
If you think about it, then that would mean the Thanatos Estate was really the most consistent car, since it won the most races and won two of the classifications But the performance of the top half dozen finishers was really relatively consistent except in the high speed stakes.
And of course, Testis and Kodiak were consistently terrible performers being super old historic clunkers with bodies that were completely unsuited to actually racing competitively with thousands of horses under the bonnet.
I cant believe i didnt get crazy wheels
I was leading the crazy wheels all the way up until the end
Your car was definitely very crazy, but there were 4 others that were even crazier, mainly because they used outdated materials and parts! Ruby also picked up a swag of race points due to its insane top speed.
**[size=200]W[/size]**ith the last vestiges of sunlight gone, the time was counted in rounds. Beer, wine, spirits and funny looking cocktails were the currency of the clock, and down the hatch they all went as hearts warmed and tongues loosened. Over two dozen of them crammed the Irish, much to the bemusement and, eventually horror of the proprietor of the pub when proceedings became progressively rowdier.
“We must race each other again sometime,” a slightly buzzed Matt, driver of the SD-01 R, yelled over the din at a slightly red-faced Yuri, driver of the Gemina. “Yes,” Yuri yelled back, face close enough to Matt’s that Matt could smell his alcoholic vapours. “That was fantastic, never felt so alive! Let’s meet at another tournament!”
Nearby, Enry smiled a little ruefully as a slightly smug Riley approached him holding two tankards of beer. “That was some great racing. But I told you rear wheel drive was for true sports cars!”
“Yes, I’ll give you that, your car was really something else.” Enry accepted the offered beer, and they clinked tankards. “To racing!”
Away from the merriment, Kristina sat, brooding, smothered in a cloud of leftover wrath. Having already caused one incident, after a lot of placating and apologising, the others had decided that it was best to leave her alone with her shots and her, um, provocative choice of jukebox music.
Auschwitz, the meaning of pain
The way that I want you to die
Slow death, immense decay
Showers that cleanse you of your life
“OKAAAAYYYY!” Strop shouted, trying to drown the awkwardness out with his rum-and-coke powered voice. “IT’S KARAOKE TIME.” There were a few nervous shuffles and glances alternating between the stares they were getting from the other local patrons.
“Did you say karaoke? Coz I thought I heard you say karaoke!” It was Sam, who seemed to be completely oblivious to the nuances of playing a song about the Holocaust in a German pub.
“Yeah. But like, maybe, let’s go to an actual karaoke bar?” Strop threw another glance across the room, seeing the increasingly hostile looks from the other patrons, the panicked look they were getting from Connor, the other pub staff starting to approach them no doubt to have ‘words’ with them, and Kristina dancing with the redhead by the jukebox, realising if they attempted to interrupt whatever the hell was going on over there, Kristina might stab them next. A hundred Euro “tip” later, some quiet pleading not to call the polizei just yet, and most of the remaining participants meandered out on the street again, blinking owlishly and wondering where to go next.
Hannah nudged Kai, “Are those bottles of champagne I see in your hands?”
Kai glanced down and started in apparent surprise to discover the unopened magnums of Krug Grand Cuvée in his grip. “Oh! Whoops! I picked it up to take a look and I guess I forgot to put it down before we left!” He finished with his trademark grin. Hannah groaned and rolled her eyes. “Well go put them away before you get us arrested for your kleptomania and carrying alcohol in a public space both.”
Kai stole another look at the double-sized bottles he was holding. “Uh, I don’t think it’s exactly possible to hide this thing. But I do have another idea.”
The crowd, not yet dispersed, turned around when Kai called out. “You know what we haven’t done yet? The champagne shower for the podium places!” Before anybody else could react, he had tossed one of the bottles at an unsuspecting participant, shook up his remaining bottle, and opened fire at Leo, Riley and Yuri. “Congratulations!”
A spray of foam arced out, then let loose in a deluge upon the winners, and everybody else in the immediate vicinity. At first, there was a mixture of surprise and outrage, then the other bottle popped open and the shower intensified, and at the inevitable prospect of being drenched in champagne, everybody came together, dancing and laughing amongst the golden drops. The bottle was passed around from person to person, and in a matter of seconds it mattered not who won or not, the streets were alive with celebration and as much cheek as cheer, chasing each other with the bottle as much as squabbling over the bottle to take a swig from the dwindling stream.
“So,” Sam, departing from the scrum with his parka covered in droplet stains, slung an arm around Strop’s shoulders. “You mentioned karaoke. I was hoping you would, because I happen to be the king of karaoke.”
“That’s impossible,” Strop scoffed. “Because I’m the king of karaoke.”
“Last I heard, you weren’t a blond haired blue eyed, devastatingly handsome racing driver by the name of Sam Neil,” Sam stared daggers at Strop. Strop butted his head up against Sam’s in return. “Let us settle this like men. We need a bar, with a jukebox, stat.”
“Oh, how cute, the boys want to play!” A curiously friendly Noah wrapped both his lanky arms around Sam and Strop in a creepy group hug, before flashing them a toothy smile. “Well, I’m the queen of karaoke, bitches.”
“Bring it, foxy,” Strop snarled. Noah didn’t stop smiling.
“That’s Your Highness to you, horseface.”
The night was barely getting started, and the energy picked up while the moon rose. It was only a matter of streets before the party of the Barely Street Legal League found another bar that would take them. The tips were paid, the drinks changed hand, the coins clattered into the jukebox and they were off again. At first, it started off with low key classics everybody knew, but less than half an hour in and the selections became increasingly anthemic, then eclectic, swinging wildly from the Beatles and Elvis to Elton John, and then Disney, and then, for good measure, Rammstein, which made all the locals cringe at Strop’s horrible German. But things started really heating up when, to keep the throats well oiled, the boys started slamming the shots back and Strop and Noah really let loose with a falsetto-off, starting with the apocalyptic strains of Muse, and then, of all things, the sugary pop of Mika.
I’ve been crying, for so loooong,
Fighting tears just to carry on,
But now, but now, it’s gone away.
“I’M SURPRISED YOU’RE BOTH STILL HERE,” Hannah yelled at Sam and Tesla over the enormous din of wobbly caterwauling. Sam, still struggling to recover from the latest assault on his vocal cords, couldn’t speak, but Tesla cocked one ear. “WHADDYA MEAN?”
“OH, YOU KNOW, THAT YOU HAVEN’T PICKED ANYBODY UP YET.” Hannah explained.
“I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT,” Tesla barked. “LOOK, I’M PICKING SOMEONE UP RIGHT NOW,” and with that, she wrapped her arms around a Kai nursing his one beer, and much to his horror, lifted him off the couch.
“For helvede, ikk’ igen”, Kai muttered.
“Oh damn, I’m up!” Sam suddenly came back to life, as the familiar strains of arguably the greatest classic of them all played over the speakers. “WE’RE ALL UP!”
Is this the real life,
Is this just fantasy,
Caught in a landslide,
No escape from reality…
One by one, everybody picked up on the song, and eventually the whole room was belting out the universal rhapsody to end all rhapsodies.
Five minutes later, and Noah and Strop were seated on one couch, drunkenly bestowing titles upon each other: “You are, the King of Karaoke.” “No, then, I dub thee, the Emperor of Karaoke.” “By the power vested in me as Emperor of Karaoke, I dub thee… the LORD ARCH POPE of Karaoke…” Sam and Kai were on another couch, when Sam glanced at Kai meaningfully. “Say, I won, didn’t I.”
“Won what?” Kai arched an eyebrow.
“Our bet.” Sam beamed, arms folded. “I beat you in Nordschleife, therefore I must have won the tournament between us, right?”
“Actually, you’re wrong.” Kai put up one finger, fishing around in his pocket for a tablet device that had mysteriously found its way into his jacket pocket. “And I have the proof here.” He booted up the device, and lo and behold, the times and the points for all the events were listed on the screen. “As you can see,” he said, scrolling through, “The total points as allotted assuming that our cars were also in the competition are here… and the winner is… me.” He flashed Sam a huge grin. “Meanwhile, you got beaten by an estate wagon.”
Sam’s mouth gaped open and while it was not visible in the darkness of the karaoke bar, he felt several shades paler. “No! That can’t be.”
“I’m afraid it is so, Sam,” Kai shrugged with a dramatic pout. “You lose.”
“No! You cheated! The tournament was not balanced right! Just because your car was faster in a straight line! I’m still the better driver!” Sam started jabbing a wild finger at Kai.
“Sorry dude, rules are rules,” Strop, who had recovered enough to listen in on the most important conversation, interjected. “And you agreed to it, so I must say, this bet is ruled in favour of Kai.”
“So, how was it…” Kai put his arm around Sam’s shoulders, pulling him down a little to Kai’s slighter height. “A tattoo, was it? ‘Loser’ written on the forehead?” Sam’s eyes widened, suddenly remembering his gloating words over the tour.
Hannah and Tesla joined the little group curiously. “You mentioned streaking through town too, if I remember correctly.” Hannah and Tesla nodded solemnly, and Sam started to look horrified now that it was made very clear there had been witnesses to his - uh - ideas. Kai paused for a moment, looking thoughtful, then he smiled with devilish glee. “And inviting Jaws for a date!”
“I… That… The winner was obviously found in the entirely wrong way here!” Sam straightened and shook off Kai, while Tesla was trying very hard not to laugh. “This isn’t fair!”
“You would have forced me to.” Kai said innocently. “I would not!” Kai’s smile widened slightly. “So, remind me, has Sven gotten that tattoo removed you-”
“That’s beside the point!”
“OH SHIT!” In a spectacularly delayed reaction, Strop suddenly bolted upright on the couch, causing everybody to fall over in surprise. Strop punched one fist into his other palm. “I just remembered, where the hell is Reece?”
Strop wandered off in a daze, trying to figure out what had happened to the beastly croc, and backtrack to the last time he had been accounted for, never to discover the legendary struggle of Reece, the methamphetamine addled croc, and the great battle of Nordschleife in which he had taken on fifty German cops at once for over twenty four hours… heck, the rumours suggested the battle is still carrying on, somewhere in the forests, to this day.
Kai leaned closer to Sam and whispered conspiratorially. “It’s alright, don’t worry. Actually… could you do me a bit of a favour… you know, since I am now saving you from permanent humiliation?”
“Sure?” Sam said, without thinking.
“You see, Dan expects us home again in a day or two, but I was thinking… Perhaps I could take a little vacation. It’s not too far from home, this.” Kai motioned vaguely with his hands.
“Oh right, you are Dutch. I keep forgetting.”
Kai stared at Sam for a moment, then decided to let his characteristic cultural incompetence slide for once. “… Yeah… So, I thought perhaps you could, I don’t know, cover for me or something?”
Sam looked at Kai with an expression that spoke volumes of how empty his head was. “Cover for you?”
“It’s nothing. Just a few explanations as to why I won’t be on the plane, stuff like that.” Kai shrugged. Sam nodded and gave him a huge smile. “Sure, I can do that!”
“Thanks Sam, you’re a pal.” Kai patted him on the shoulder and rose from the couch, making his way through the front doors of the bar.
Strop was outside for just a minute to get some fresh air. The next thing he knew, the branches of the short hedge were jabbing him in the back, and someone was nudging his hoof. “Smile!”
Strop managed to open his eyes just in time to be partially blinded by a flash from a camera, then entirely blinded by the giant grin that flashed moments later. “Ugh, what are you doing…” He pawed at the phone, which was just out of reach, while Kai tabbed the screen. “Send to… All contacts…” Kai mumbled, obviously exactly loud enough for Strop to hear.
Strop, not so ninja after the amount of alcohol consumption he had been part of, pawed more desperately at the phone and managed to finally snatch it away from Kai. Then he took a proper look at it. “Wait, this is mine… Did you pickpocket me?” He stared at Kai in disbelief.
Kai merely shrugged. “It depends on your definition.”
Strop tried his best to glare at Kai, but his brow didn’t have the coordination to be convincing. “Did you take it out of my pocket without me noticing??”
“Yes.” Kai nodded, then pulled his hood over his head. Strop stared at him in further disbelief, until Kai disappeared into the hedge next to him. Strop patted the branches down a bit and turned his head, and sure enough, Kai was lying next to him, arms behind his head and everything. “It’s quite the view, you found here.” Strop blinked and looked up at the dark night sky, which was further darknened by a heavy blanket of clouds and looked increadibly boring now that he thought about it. “Oh, and…” Kai sat up. Strop, curious and oddly lightheaded, sat up as well, just to get a bottle of beer thrust into his hands. He looked at it for a moment, and much to the dismay of the little voice of reason in his head, took a swig.
“This is some weak shit…” He mumbled, the taste familiar, but his mouth so numbed by everything else that it- “Yeah, I pissed in it.” Strop spat and coughed hard, almost choking after the sharp intake of air he took a moment before. Kai doubled over, hardly able to breathe through paroxysms of laughter. For the same reason, Strop’s angry questioning noises didn’t get a reply until he could finally gasp out a “Relax,” and, “It’s water”. Strop glared at him, and put down the bottle slowly, like it was an actual biohazard, mostly because he wasn’t sure it wasn’t, and waited for Kai to catch his breath, continuing the glare all the while.
“Sorry.” Kai finally said, looking completely unapologetic. “It’s really just water.” He took a swig himself for added credibility, and put it back on the ground. “Thought you might need it.” Strop eyed it suspiciously. Kai shrugged and got up. “And go inside soon, it’s not very warm out here.”
“And where are you going?” Strop asked, fighting his way to his hooves, the alcohol seemingly rushing back to this head. “I’m a bit tired, so I’ll just go home.” Strop paused at the word choice, but shrugged it off. “What about the others?”
Kai flashed him a grin. “Still going strong, but I taught Sam how to order beer in German, so if he doesn’t find some equally drunk girl to follow home, you might need to carry him.” Strop stared at him for a minute and sighed. “Okay, I think it’s time to sober up…”
“Up to you.” Kai smiled and shrugged. “I’ll be off, then.” “Yeah, see you tomorrow.” Strop waved, his mind already distracted. Kai gave him a wave back and wandered down the street, hands in pockets and a smile on his face.
Strop watched him go, and turned back to the front entrance, watching the party trickle out and mill about the front entrance. Tom had his arm around the chronically under-dressed Elena, gregariously inviting everybody back to his headquarters just across the border. Discussions were turning to how to transport cars in various states of disrepair, with the offers pouring in to share transportation services to all corners of the world. A kind soul had picked up a bottle of gin, sparing a thought for the poor hobo still recovering in the hospital for his part in the tournament.
Soon, they would part ways, and the events of the past month would fade into a mist of obscurity. Forever what they had seen and done would be immortalised, not only in their own memories, but also in legend, a myth that engendered unto itself its own unique, changing nature. In secrecy they were sworn, to let what really happened become a matter of conjecture, blurring the border between real life and fantasy. But the moment they were in, the here and now, was their reality, the culmination of the madness and the curiosity that brought them together to burn rubber, belch smoke, and go wheel to wheel like the world had never seen, and would never know.
Despite having travelled halfway across the globe over the past month, despite the houses, and the nearby towns, Kai still had the impression this sleepy village was the middle of nowhere. Then again, that was how it had always been as long as he could remember. He took a long, deep breath, taking in the air laced with the fragrance of damp earth and fallen leaves. His home town.
In a futile attempt to remain discreet, he tucked Mephisto away from the other cars, though for what it was, it still stood out like a scarlet red sore thumb. As did his jacket. With a sigh and a shrug, he made his way over the picket fence and across the old school yard. Kai had once gone to school in those buildings, but now it had become a kindergarten instead. Yet, fifteen years had not changed it at all, save for the deluge of small kids that flooded out the front door, followed by a slightly harried, bustling homely woman with the diminutive stature he swore he’d inherited, and the occasional grey starting to barely creep in among the loose locks of bright auburn hair he’d known all his life.
“Det er godt nok koldt udenfor ida-” Kai gave a little wave at both his mom and the group of kids around her. It didn’t really do the trick, and she continued to stand paralysed, like she was seeing a ghost. Of course, after eight hours on the Autobahn, he didn’t look quite alive anymore either. It took his trademark cocky grin to snap her out of it, and rush through the group of kids to wrap her arms around him.
“Jeg var lige i nærheden, så…” Kai murmured, resting his chin on her shoulder. His mom sighed, her face crinkled with both exhaustion and relief. “Skøre unge…” She mumbled into his shoulder, clutching him as if never intending to let go again.
[size=200]THE END[/size]
Well folks, there you have it. The story really did get out of hand, but after a point it was a matter of duty to finish it off as properly as I could! Assuming there’s a next time, I’ll definitely be prepared for something better organised.
Thanks everybody who took part and who read the story. I’ll open a poll to gauge response shortly. Participants, feel free to add your own epilogues or resolutions as you see fit, if you wish to of course. But for now, I bid you all a goodnight and see you around the traps!
Peace, out.
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p.s. I’ve created a survey for ANYBODY and EVERYBODY who either participated or read the BSLL etc. Please do provide feedback, as it will help me determine if/when I create another BSLL and how.