Hitting Rock Bottom and Starting To Dig


Jack drove back to his hometown to pick up some help. He picked up his best friend Bruce and his girlfriend Sheila (His own girlfriend, not Bruce’s).

They drove as fast as they could towards the middle of the outback.

“However will we get to America?” asked Sheila. “EVIL CAR can’t drive fast enough!”

“Oh, I’ve got a solution for that, Sheila, mate!” he said. “EVIL CAR can fly!”

And so EVIL CAR could. They drove as fast as they could towards a huge corrugated iron ramp. To celebrate the first official flight for Australia, the entire air force was standing around, waving and eating a meat pie. They zoomed up the ramp and two corrugated iron wings attached to the sides of the doors. The slats extended for take-off and the corrugated iron black box (coloured orange, as everybody knows, but this one was orange with rust) beeped. They zoomed off the end of the ramp and plummeted towards the ground. But, at the last second, they hit the ground.

“Oops,” said Jack, “Forgot to push this button marked ‘Fly’.” The button in question was a big red button (with rust) next to the big red (with rust) ‘Mosquito’ button and the beer-and-meat-pie holders (with rust).

Jack pushed the button and EVIL CAR zoomed off in flight. Before it rocketed off into the clouds, we could see the numberplate, very cinematically I might add, customised to ‘EVIL∙CAR’ and the bumper sticker ‘If you can read this, you have learned to read’.

They zoomed off through the clouds and reached 141.68 kilometres per hour, plagiarised some movie material and zoomed off through time to the twenty-first century (Also known as present day, also known as Christmas)!

“Oh shit,” said Jack, “It did that ‘time’ thing again! Bad EVIL CAR, bad!”

EVIL CAR grunted in anger and shame, but mostly anger.

The time journey had taken them through space, for unexplained reasons also and they were now flying through American airspace. They were also being shot at.

“Get me Norton Aircraft on the line!” said Corporal Punishment, head of the U.S. Airforce base in whatever state Norman had lived in two hundred odd years ago.

“Is that Norton Aircraft?” asked Corp. Punishment, stirring his coffee clockwise.

“Casey Singleton on the line,” said Casey Singleton, who was, as she previously stated, on the line.

“Good,” the Corporal said. “Is this another one of those Flight 545 slats things from the eighties?” he questioned.

“I told you, it’s not the slats,” said Casey, “And I’ve got the people from Newsline on the other line demanding to see John Marder.”

“Well, tell them it can wait. Or even better, sue ‘em over the 545 thing.”

“I can’t, they’d never put the story on!”

At that moment, the author’s phone rang.

“Stop stealing my stuff!” yelled Michael Crichton.

“Okay, okay!” said the author. “You’ve just been touchy ever since they made the film adaptation of Congo!”

There was a silence that sounded much like an author contemplating something.

“Well, okay then,” said Michael Crichton, “But you can’t steal my characters from Sphere! That was one of my good ones!”

“Oh, Michael,” said the author, “All your books are good. You’ve just been too hard on yoursElf since they made the third Jurassic Park.”

There was a muttering of ‘Red Rum’.

“I know you’re on the other line, Stephen,” shouted the author, “And no, I have not included any characters that can set things on fire with their mind!”

There was another possibly drunken muttering, along with the sound of a snowmobile.

“No, Bruce used gasoline in the bar bit,” explained the author, “Now please go away, you’re holding up my work. And tell JK Rowling to hurry up with book seven!”

The author returned to his writing.

The newly omitted character, Casey Singleton, vanished in a puff of copyright to be replaced by Sacey Cingleton, a character of a satirical nature. She then informed the Corporal where he could metaphorically stick his problem and hung up. The corporal didn’t really care though, as the now-airborne EVIL CAR had accelerated to 141.68 kilometres per hour again, and had gone back to the correct time setting for this novel. The author picked up his phone again, as it had started to ring.

“Is that you, King?” he demanded.

“Can I change the first bit of your book…” began a voice.

“GO AWAY, GEORGE LUCAS!” he said, and almost put the phone down. “Oh, and Episode Three was definitely and improvement.” he said, and then slammed the phone down.