First Rule of the Wasteland: You do not mess with a gentleman’s coif.
Desmond Balthar, in possession of a mere 7HP after his exchange with Wez, didn’t feel “the better part of valor” would permit him to continue the engagement, so he sped off in search of another spot where his Thunderdome talents might be an asset that mightn’t be thrown away against a foe with a 25HP advantage. But Wez didn’t feel inclined to let Balthar get away quite so easily. He’d been cultivating that mohawk for months and Wez really wasn’t looking forward to the razzing he could expect in the locker room after the final bell. The Caddy was much slower than the Cobra, but he pursued Balthar with grim determination… and Balthar failed to notice.
The Cobra rolled down to the bottom of the sphere, where Channing Hunter could be found hastily dumping a jug of Bar’s Leaks into her Toyota’s radiator. “You good, Channing?” barked Balthar.
“Never better,” she replied, “But maybe a bit thirsty.”
“Where’s Toecutter?”
“Think he’s over there, pulling the bed off his Dodge.” Sure enough, the would-be tyrant was employing a Sawzall to cut most of the flattened bed off the old truck before the jagged metal cut a tire or something.
“Need a hand?”
"Balthar, behind you!!!"
having mopped and emptied the bucket, we now continue where we left off
"Balthar, behind you!!!"
Fleetwood’s Caddy bore down upon the Cobra’s rear at full throttle. Channing had no time to aim properly, but swiveled her RPG and let fly at a target that was, more or less fortunately, large and increasingly close. Ka-BOOM!! The armored front grille of the Caddy exploded in flame and shrapnel, leaving Wez 10HP lighter than before. Wez snarled and returned the favor, carving up the Hilux with the Caddy’s hi-mount chainguns for 9HP damage. Balthar floored it and muscled the battered Cobra in a tight circle, bringing his phasers to bear on the huge Caddy. Holes bloomed throughout the doublestacked Fisher bodywork, resulting in 8HP damage as the Caddy’s left rear upper quarterpanel fell completely off and lay smoking on the floor of the cage. Channing took her time lining up her next shot with the RPG, aiming for the enormous 502 big-block engine. The blast landed square on top of the intake manifold, exploding the carb, obliterating the distributor cap and both valve covers, and spraying a shower of flaming oil over both windscreens, both immobilizing and blinding the Caddy for another 10HP of damage. Knowing Fleetwood’s ride was finished, Wez climbed out and stood on its roof, tearing off the one remaining chaingun and swinging it over to Balthar, determined to make him pay for the loss of his precious mohawk. Bullets flew toward the Cobra, and enough of them found their mark to tear another 5HP away, leaving Balthar gasping with only 2HP remaining. As Channing dropped her now-empty RPG launcher and grabbed for whatever weaponry she hadn’t yet exhausted, Balthar kicked in the phasers one last time,
melting the Caddy’s roof out from under Wez’s feet, igniting the fuel tanks, and in the resultant explosion, ripping loose another 5HP… bringing the Caddy down to -1.
Desmond caught his breath, exhausted, watching the flames lick at the steel cage, Cadillac parts strewn everywhere.
When what should suddenly appear at the leading edge of the Cobra’s hood to a deafening sting of shock-music?
Channing muttered, “Die, you cheatin’ sonofabitch,” then swung her busted chainsaw as hard as she could at the singed mohawk.
That turned out to be very hard indeed.
“Christ,” said Balthar. “What a mess.”
“I hate sore losers,” Channing replied.
Fifth round results:
Channing Hunter: 26HP remaining
Desmond Balthar: 2HP remaining
Wez: DEAD
