It doesn’t matter. I am horrible at dice games. Even when I have great stats I botch and end up literally blowing up a city block. (True story)
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Since I am already in the Southland – La Jolla, to be exact – of course I am coming from San Diego direction.
Sir Gonville De’Ath, if that’s what he’s calling himself nowadays, does have nice sleepout here in La Jolla. We go way back “Sir Gonville” and I, although I’m kinda surprised he’s not in Yorba Linda or San Clemente.
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It appears the battery in the Speedster isn’t dead, for once. After visually checking the fuel and oil levels, Ms. Van Winkle heads to Huntington Beach via Hollywood.
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Breaker Breaker, this is Cougar. Though we’re all somewhat telepathic with our cars (and, by extension, with each other), the old habits I inherited from my long-haul trucker daddy when I was a wee slip of a girl riding next to him down I-40 seem to die hard.
Hey, I’ve got confidence we can pull off this gig with the crew we’ve already signed up, but Blazer and I have been picking up some grumbling here and there from some of you chuckleheads, like maybe they think we ain’t got the overall horsepower to pull this off.
Blaze tells me I’ve got a bit of a reputation as a hardass, but I find that hard to believe. Maybe my daddy called me princess, but I’m as democratic as they come. I’ve recently been made aware of another resource for participants: the Clan of the BoingBoing. If we give the thumbs-up, our connection will put the word out in the main meetingplace of the Clan, and as an immediate consequence we’ll probably be inundated with a flood of Drivers wishing to join.
I leave it up to you. PM me with your vote: do we send for help from the BoingBoingers, or do we head out with the gang we already have? We’ll still cap at 30 if we send for help, so don’t worry too much about splitting the spoils with so many that the job’s not worth doing. Overkill ain’t my style. I kill just enough to get the job done.
Let me know what you think. Cougar out.
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I found a nice little pad with a car elevator when I first moved over. Suited my needs well.
Moving to La Jolla seemed like a smart idea when my life threatened to turn into an episode of Poldark, but now I’m not so sure. Living the life of an international playboy was fun but all good things must come to an end.
I hear there’s some madcap plan forming to tow a rocket from Huntingdon Beach to Edwards AFB, in order to get to Mars. Sounds like someone’s been out in the midday sun too long if you ask me, but on the other hand, I’ve not come up with any better ideas myself.
Since I’m going to drown (best case scenario) if I stay here, I guess I may as well check it out. Chances are I’ll die on the way, but nothing ventured…
It’s 100 miles to Huntingdon Beach, I’ve got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it’s dark… and I’m wearing sunglasses.
3. San Diego
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~Clank keys up the mic~
The more the merrier, sez me, but I think oncest we get our butts in gear, the better our chances of gettin’ some others to join up.
I’m ready to go now, but if’n we decide to wait a bit to get goin’, I’ll just pull into a rest stop and take me a nap.
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Hollywood! Dream of a thousand young kids, stardust in their eyes, who stepped off buses from around the nation to be hounded by Scientologists and then bitten by a zombie before they could find old Mickey Rooney’s star on the Walk of Fame.
These days though, it’s gotten bad. The rest of the sign fell down recently, the Y sliding down the hill eventually coming to a stop on Mulholland, wrecking a perfectly nice pair of his and hers Porsche 911s that happened to be idling at the corner contemplating what to do with their afternoon. At least they got their question answered.
I’ve been mostly working the Pacific Northwest section of things, running small trips for what’s left of Boeing to try and get their small jets working well enough to get what’s left of the Seattle rap scene out to the Aleutians. They say those are mostly clean, but I’m half convinced that’s just a convenient lie. I mean, I’ve never seen a 717 come back. Most of the pilots they pick are a little old in the tooth and probably due a pretty big retirement package. But’s it’s pretty clean for the most part, Geiger counter doesn’t peg out like DC or New York, and the surrounding people have been armed to the teeth for years forming a Ring of Shotguns that helped protect that corner of the left coast.
At any rate, Boeing has helped me stack up the license plates through the years but the pickings started to get a little slim for my liking and I started south a few weeks back before hearing about this deal from Cougar. She and I used to do some midnight runs for some, ah, characters who paid well enough if you didn’t ask questions. I’d pretty much blown my stack of plates getting a new engine to replace the original 427 that finally blew out on a tough run out along the Columbia River Gorge that went awry. Got a little less power these days but better gas mileage, a little quieter, and it’s helped limit the amount of fishtailing around the curves.
Looks like I’m spending the rest to get the paint touched up and see ol’ Coug in style though. Been a lot of miles under the wheels since I’ve had the pleasure and I don’t need her thinking I’m a charity case on this trip. I hate to get it smeared with zombie faces, but going the long way around doesn’t seem like the kind of flashy, self-confident presentation I’d like to bring to the meeting.
See you in the pictures fellas, I’m ready for my closeup.
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220, 221. Whatever it takes. I’ve been told that the folks that responded so far are some of the toughest, meanest, sons of nitrus that ever roamed the highways, and so I have to trust in that. But if some people think they need help, well, I don’t want people to miss out on an opportunity to have a little fun before dyin’.
All I know is I’ve got a long way to go, and a short time to get there.
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Did someone ask for an escort? I’ll be swinging through Riverside. My dog Rusty has a bad habit of chasing zombies, and it’s always a mess when I have to use the business end of my breaker bar on undead folk.
I don’t think it will be easy though. I hear those hitchhikers are bad news. Once they hitched onto a deliverator and he wasted so much time, the pepperoni pizza was free. Tragedy.
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Cannot. Like. Enough.
Sally Field is so having so much fun in this movie.
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I’ll be coming in from Hollywood, I was at that beach earlier this week, but you know how it goes, got to keep moving, decided to go for higher ground up in the hills. Ah well what goes up must come down. I guess it will be easier to drive over the zoms on the way down.
If anyone needs some backup I’m looking to fill one of the escort positions, might as well start now.
[edit:] Before I forget, I heard some acquaintances might be around this area, I asked them to join us but if those Boing fellas get here first, well so be it. You snooze you lose and all that.
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Evenin’ folkz this is Junior Burton on the Pepperoni Eggspress.
I’m returning back from an ‘extra special’ delivery to the southwest, and while I’ve got the torque to handle the waves of the coastal route, …let’s just say if I wanted a permanent status ailment I’d still be married.
RIVERSIDE looks like my best bet.
Here’s the deal, I’ve got 9 short tons of rumbling steel that’s sure to attract more hillfolk fans than a country music festival with Darth Brooks headlining.
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Clank (@davide405), when you wake from your golden slumbers you are welcome to draft behind me to conserve on fuel economy. If you happen to wake any of them Monster Trucks, I’ll pull the airhorn and take their attention off of you and onto me. In return, if we both make it to Huntington’s I’d sure appreciate your wrench on any dings that I might incur along the ride.
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Channing (@gwwar) You’re mighty welcome to draft as well to save on vapors, and if you pull any bigguns, I’ll distract them as well. All I ask is that when we get close to Huntington’s, you use those fancy guns to extract any hitchhikers off my blessed-3-axled-ass before the we get close enuff for the other drivers to turn Paw’s truck into Swisss Cheese.
'Junior out.
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Holy SHITGO, we have to deal with MAFIA too? I sure hope someone around here is in good Uncle Enzo…
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We have how many zombies to face? How much Rocket to haul? Hell yes, we want more Drivers.
I always did work best with a group
a really anti-social group, but a group.
“we’re here to meet a friend”
–Bubba Zanetti.
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Said the spider to the flies.
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It’d be my pleasure to. Provided that the great dice in the sky has all its sides, this lady is a great shot.
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If you’re coming from San Diego, be aware they aren’t lying about the sea-monsters.
I encouraged a ‘friend’ to take the drive up the I-5 yesterday, in the name of research. The results were a little…discouraging.
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These are exactly the sorts of reports I need for my guide! Drivers are encouraged to share all such findings - you might even get a little bonus from me.
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Ha!
Ah yes that’s the thing, you rub mine, I’ll rub yours, we’re all happy aren’t we!? Lovely job.
Happy to be your eyes and ears, goes for anyone out and about my way!
Couple of handy additions to the Pinkie that put off the devils and weevils - ha! Milkshake 'em!! All swappable, all at once, .50 HGM, couple of GPMGs, Mk19 40m grenade launcher (ha! that’s a fun one!), Milan wire-guided missiles for those special sermons, 84mm anti-tank stuff, M72 66mm rockets, Stingers, mortar, tank mines! Hahaha! Bloody good laugh lighting up a party, let me say!
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