[Movieverse 2007] Coffee Cravings and Funny Farm
Posted: Wed Jul 11, 2007 1:44 pm
(very minor language warning in Funny Farm -- two or three semi-bad words are written. 10+ audience. Also, this will make aLOT more sense if you've seen the new Transformers live-action movie [a fantastic show, by the way]. This is set in pre-movie times.)
Coffee Cravings
By: Landray Depth Charge
Jesus Christ, he was bored.
And when it was dull enough for Frenzy to be incapable of amusing himself, it was saying something.
It appeared that Podunk, Oregon, or wherever he and Barricade were in at the moment, was monotonous at noon in the dead of summer. The roads were long and flat with nothing but cornfields on either side as Barricade headed due west towards the Columbia River Gorge.
“Patience, comrade,” the Ford rasped to his teammate in the passenger seat. “Entertainment awaits you in the next town.”
Frenzy perked from his slumped over position in the passenger seat. “Coffee?”
The other sighed. “If you must.”
It was difficult for Barricade to ignore his partner’s hyperactive and excited babble and bounce as the miniformer obviously approved of the idea. He rued the day he introduced Frenzy to Dunkin Donuts espresso for the sake of believability in New York City. Ever since, the radio-robot had been hooked on coffee like it was crack cocaine straight from Columbia and had even rewired and upgraded himself to be able to at least somewhat consume the beverage. It was the bane of Barricade’s existence, especially when Frenzy went through systematic caffeine withdrawal. Frenzy got irate when he didn’t get the correct dose of caffeine or said bouts were inconsistent.
The road stretched on straight and true before him for what seemed like forever, but Barricade knew what his hyperactive companion did not. Interstate eighty-four dumped into Portland, Oregon after an extensive drive through the scenic Columbia River Gorge, however, Barricade was not taking this route for the sake of trees and mountains. It was long, straight, and fast – there was little chance of anyone second-guessing a police car on the highway as opposed to one meandering backwoods roads.
Frenzy’s stalk-like eyes swiveled this way and that, peering out of the one-way glass as objects whooshed by at eighty miles per hour. It was rare that the smaller, quicker Decepticon fell into silence, but what else could even the most sugar buzzed being do while stuck in a car for a long drive?
“I learn of road game in Tallahassee,” the bored one grumbled as his overactive mind demanded something to occupy it. Twitching, he lurched out and grabbed at dials, pushed buttons, and played with levers while Barricade only sufferingly tolerated it.
“I fear to ask what that might be.”
“‘I spy’.”
Barricade growled warningly as his teammate obsessively plunked away at the knobs on his radioface. “I spy?” he asked, expecting clarification.
But Frenzy, having disappeared from the front seat, had taken up residence in the back in order to fiddle with the humanoid laptop he’d lifted from the place of purchase known as ‘Best Buy’. It amazed and delighted the coffee-addicted Decepticon just how low-tech these fleshlings were. Their technology was easy to hack and pick apart, simple to download, and even less complicated to completely destroy. What was a simple computer virus on Cybertron that only presented a small irritation to any resident who received it was a system-crippler to the humans. It was pitiful! It was amusing! It was…hilarious!
Barricade listened distractedly as Frenzy dissolved into a fit of maniacal giggling in his backseat. On most days the Ford merely didn’t ask. He had larger things to worry about, bigger fish to fry, or whatever it was that the humans said. Megatron was still missing. The Allspark had not yet been found. Barricade was not out in the middle of nowhere in the Midwest for the sake of boring his partner witless, he was looking for clues, for signs, always on the prowl for his leader. Next stop: Portland, Oregon.
To punish and enslave. Peace through tyranny. All hail Megatron.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Funny Farm
By: Landray Depth Charge
Barricade was not identified for having infinite patience. In fact, it was well known that the Saleen Mustang had one of the shortest tempers around, but oftentimes checked it severely in order to avoid killing his more stupid teammates and partners. Now, he wasn’t about to accuse Frenzy of stupidity, quite the opposite, but the little bugger had a natural wired talent to annoy the ever living slag out of him on a daily basis. Especially when the said energetic mech was stuck in a car, forced to stay in a small area, for an extended period of time.
It was pure torment for the larger Decepticon.
Frenzy was currently engaged in excitedly surfing the Internet using Barricade’s dashboard console, clicking on the keys at mach 4. Whatever the CD-player/radio was looking for, he was finding it swiftly and without much issue, downloading the information, and moving on with glee to the next subject. The police impersonator was more engaged in watching the road than monitoring what Frenzy was doing.
“Cheese is a solid food made from the milk of cows, goats, sheep and other mammals,” the coffee-addict abruptly spouted. “Cheese is made by curdling milk using a combination of rennet (or rennet substitutes) and acidification. Bacteria culture acidify the milk and play a role in defining the texture and flavor of most cheeses. Some cheeses also feature molds, either on the outer rind or throughout.”
If Barricade had possessed optics in vehicle mode, he would have blinked. “What?”
“So say Wikipedia! Wiki wiki wiki!” Frenzy cackled and turned the computer screen towards Barricade’s hologram, as if he expected the false human to look and read what was on the screen.
The mustached psuedo-man didn’t, instead kept his eyes on the pavement. Tolerating his partner’s vast idiosyncrasies was slowly becoming the norm for him.
“Weird things these insects ingest,” Frenzy continued, staring with all four optics on the screen. “Mold? Products made from fermented plants and bovine excrements? There is bacteria in this human cheese slag that molds and makes it cheese! Two hours ago I read that bacteria was harmful to the flesh bags!”
Tolerating Frenzy’s use of the local slang was another oddity Barricade had long gotten used to. “We’re not here to understand the local life.”
“First rule of stealth operations on other worlds: Learn and understand local customs. You know this, Barricade!” Frenzy idly berated as he half concentrated on what was being said and what was showing up in his next word search.
The cars tail lights lit up brilliantly as he slammed on the brakes, sending Frenzy away from the console to smash face first into the dashboard. The Suzuki behind him blared the horn and zipped past as Frenzy clicked and whirred in mighty displeasure, recollecting himself in the passenger seat with a few rude humanoid hand gestures. Satisfied, the Ford checked over internal systems, spotting a red blip on the map. According to Barricade’s diagnostics he could make it another fifty-two miles before he reached critical energy drain and nonvital systems would begin to shut down. In other words, he needed gas. The river that the modified police cruiser had been following for some distance still laid with infinite complacency to his right as another blue highway sign approached. ‘Gasoline: Chevron, BP, Texaco’ it read, white letters and symbols strewn across a backdrop of cobalt blue.
Frenzy perked up and looked slightly more alert to his surroundings as Barricade took I-84 Exit 65 into The Dalles. “Where--?”
“Gasoline,” Barricade rapidly answered. “I need to refuel.”
“Ooooh!” The compact radio twitched and wriggled all twelve fingers and thumbs eagerly. Amusement always awaited him at the truck stops and small country towns. It was the big cities that he had to watch out for. “Coffee?”
“I really wish you wouldn’t, Frenzy, but do whatever you must.”
The green and white neon of the BP station blinked monotonously ahead of them as they rounded the bend off of the highway and onto a small rural road. It was barely two lanes wide and filled with enough potholes to inconvenience Devastator. It was a relatively small stop, with three gas stations, two fast food places, and a convenience store, none of which captured Barricade’s attention. Unfortunately, being what he was, he couldn’t fill his own gas tank without transforming, and obviously, that option was out of the question. The bane of having no hands in vehicle mode. That, and seeing a pair of arms on a car would bring a few odd looks from the locals for certain.
Frenzy lifted his left hand and tapped on his chest, chirping and clicking, bringing his hologram online as he slid over into the drivers seat after the Mustang turned off his own. When he swung the driver’s door open, all the humans saw was a plain clothes police officer, short for a man in the society at 5’6”, with short brown hair and brown eyes. Nobody took a second look as the cloaked mechanoid grabbed a wallet he’d stolen from a local terran back in Louisville from the dashboard compartment. Nobody suspected a thing when the officer handed over a fifty-dollar bill to gas up his vehicle. Nobody knew that the human holding the pump wasn’t human at all. Barricade sat in silence with his radio on and the windows down, watching as the locals moved around him in monotony. The Decepticon duo had this particular routine down to a science; Frenzy filled while the police impersonator played the role of exactly what he was pretending to be: a human-driven and human-controlled non-intelligent transport vessel.
There was more to him than met the eye. The creatures around him just didn’t know it.
Tank at full, Barricade parked and allowed Frenzy the temporary freedom of ‘stretching his legs’. The Ford Saleen knew that his partner was talented at keeping to himself and wasn’t particularly worried about them being caught or figured out. He just made sure to place himself in an inconspicuous area to wait, this time being the side of an abandoned building across the street from the BP station. It was doubtful that anyone would even realize he was there, much less get to reading the scripture on the side of his car mode. It was amazing to Barricade, the stupidity of these beasts. His symbol was brightly emblazoned in a very visual fashion, as where the obvious words “to punish and enslave”, and none of the terrans had ever even approached his hologram driver about it. They were a primitive, dense, and violent race that preferred killing each other to worrying about what some police car was doing on the highway.
So Barricade sat. And waited.
Frenzy, meanwhile, was temporarily satisfied. His systems were busy griping at the quality of the gas station java that he’d introduced, but for the most part, aside from the mild clogging discomfort, he ignored it. Still cloaked by the plain-clothes hologram, Frenzy made his way towards a field on the opposite side of the two-lane road, peering at something he spotted in the short distance. He locked on and zoomed in with binocular vision, tilting his head at the strange, four legged black and white creatures he saw. The data he’d been soaking up all day told him they were cows, domesticated ungulates, a member of the subfamily Bovinae of the family Bovidae. It was where milk and butter came from. Frenzy idly wondered: if the milk comes from those…things…where does the butter come from?
He glanced about. After ensuring that none of the ridiculously inferior humans were looking, Frenzy dropped his cloak and crawled under the fence, hidden by the ditch and the tall grass as he sneakily made his way towards the large red building. The hyperactive Decepticon couldn’t remember reading what the red building was called at the moment, but apparently it housed some sort of living creature. Pausing at the edge of the grass, Frenzy rested his weight on all fours like a steaknife-covered canine of doom, waiting for the household leading male to make his way from the mail recieval unit back to the front door of the house not sixty yards away. Coast clear. Frenzy stood up and meandered over to the door of the barn, cautiously peering in, scanning the dimness before easing a step or two inside. He switched to infrared, turned his head right –
-- And nearly had kittens when he found himself staring up the long nose of a very, very large and curious earth creature. Frenzy clicked and squeaked and leapt backwards with a yell of surprise, backing against the opposite wall. The animal jerked its head up and let its ears drift back unsurely, and for several seconds, the two just stared at each other. They were unfamiliar to one another as much as any two beings could be. That is not a cow, the radio-mech thought with a twitch and a tilt of his head. He peered down the shedrow, spotting several more boxes that each held one of those strange critters in it. Each stall was 10’ x 12’ wide, or so is scanners told him, and floored with a type of earth grass to keep the animals comfortable. But what were the creatures themselves?
Easing to the middle of the isle, Frenzy crept forward in the dark, the light from the open doorway playing across his reflective metal. Each creature stuck his or her head over a half door in the boxes, watching him as he lurked past. However, in the last stall in this strange red building sat not another beast, but several hefty squares, made up of two kinds of earth grass. The critters must have required different sorts of bedding to sleep in.
Footsteps.
Frenzy whirled around as his hypersensitive audios picked up the distant sounds of boots crunching gravel, steadily gaining in volume as the human neared the barn. Frantically, he took a single second to pick out a hiding spot and leapt into the box nearest to him, planting his back against one of the hay bales. The footsteps echoed into the wooden building, and the female human who had entered spoke to the animals. Surely she does not expect them to communicate back, Frenzy mused to himself as he kept still and quiet. The footsteps came closer again. Closer still. A click, and the ceiling lights turned on, destroying the darkness that he had been hiding in. Frenzy held himself, ready to transform to his alternate mode at a second’s notice, but the human girl stopped at the stall next to the one he was hiding in. A few more seconds of tense silence passed before relief was felt; the girl was retreating back to the mouth of the building. That was good. Frenzy had explored enough for one pit stop.
Barricade was still parked beside the abandoned shop when Frenzy came streaking up, concealed for the most part by the simplicity of the setting sun. The passenger door swung open, and Frenzy leapt in.
The Ford Mustang revved and merged back onto the highway as the sun set to the west, the direction he was headed. “Enjoy yourself?” he rasped, not really caring about the answer, be it an affirmative or not.
“Funky critters and beasts on this planet,” Frenzy replied, resuming his Internet antics. He still wanted to know what those long-nosed animals were. “Mhmhmhm..Horse! Equus caballus, a large, odd-toed ungulate mammal configured for carrying humans on their backs or hauling a load hitched to carts. Kingdom: Animalia. Phylum: Chordata. Class: Mammalia. Order…”
Barricade sighed and drove into the night.
Coffee Cravings
By: Landray Depth Charge
Jesus Christ, he was bored.
And when it was dull enough for Frenzy to be incapable of amusing himself, it was saying something.
It appeared that Podunk, Oregon, or wherever he and Barricade were in at the moment, was monotonous at noon in the dead of summer. The roads were long and flat with nothing but cornfields on either side as Barricade headed due west towards the Columbia River Gorge.
“Patience, comrade,” the Ford rasped to his teammate in the passenger seat. “Entertainment awaits you in the next town.”
Frenzy perked from his slumped over position in the passenger seat. “Coffee?”
The other sighed. “If you must.”
It was difficult for Barricade to ignore his partner’s hyperactive and excited babble and bounce as the miniformer obviously approved of the idea. He rued the day he introduced Frenzy to Dunkin Donuts espresso for the sake of believability in New York City. Ever since, the radio-robot had been hooked on coffee like it was crack cocaine straight from Columbia and had even rewired and upgraded himself to be able to at least somewhat consume the beverage. It was the bane of Barricade’s existence, especially when Frenzy went through systematic caffeine withdrawal. Frenzy got irate when he didn’t get the correct dose of caffeine or said bouts were inconsistent.
The road stretched on straight and true before him for what seemed like forever, but Barricade knew what his hyperactive companion did not. Interstate eighty-four dumped into Portland, Oregon after an extensive drive through the scenic Columbia River Gorge, however, Barricade was not taking this route for the sake of trees and mountains. It was long, straight, and fast – there was little chance of anyone second-guessing a police car on the highway as opposed to one meandering backwoods roads.
Frenzy’s stalk-like eyes swiveled this way and that, peering out of the one-way glass as objects whooshed by at eighty miles per hour. It was rare that the smaller, quicker Decepticon fell into silence, but what else could even the most sugar buzzed being do while stuck in a car for a long drive?
“I learn of road game in Tallahassee,” the bored one grumbled as his overactive mind demanded something to occupy it. Twitching, he lurched out and grabbed at dials, pushed buttons, and played with levers while Barricade only sufferingly tolerated it.
“I fear to ask what that might be.”
“‘I spy’.”
Barricade growled warningly as his teammate obsessively plunked away at the knobs on his radioface. “I spy?” he asked, expecting clarification.
But Frenzy, having disappeared from the front seat, had taken up residence in the back in order to fiddle with the humanoid laptop he’d lifted from the place of purchase known as ‘Best Buy’. It amazed and delighted the coffee-addicted Decepticon just how low-tech these fleshlings were. Their technology was easy to hack and pick apart, simple to download, and even less complicated to completely destroy. What was a simple computer virus on Cybertron that only presented a small irritation to any resident who received it was a system-crippler to the humans. It was pitiful! It was amusing! It was…hilarious!
Barricade listened distractedly as Frenzy dissolved into a fit of maniacal giggling in his backseat. On most days the Ford merely didn’t ask. He had larger things to worry about, bigger fish to fry, or whatever it was that the humans said. Megatron was still missing. The Allspark had not yet been found. Barricade was not out in the middle of nowhere in the Midwest for the sake of boring his partner witless, he was looking for clues, for signs, always on the prowl for his leader. Next stop: Portland, Oregon.
To punish and enslave. Peace through tyranny. All hail Megatron.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Funny Farm
By: Landray Depth Charge
Barricade was not identified for having infinite patience. In fact, it was well known that the Saleen Mustang had one of the shortest tempers around, but oftentimes checked it severely in order to avoid killing his more stupid teammates and partners. Now, he wasn’t about to accuse Frenzy of stupidity, quite the opposite, but the little bugger had a natural wired talent to annoy the ever living slag out of him on a daily basis. Especially when the said energetic mech was stuck in a car, forced to stay in a small area, for an extended period of time.
It was pure torment for the larger Decepticon.
Frenzy was currently engaged in excitedly surfing the Internet using Barricade’s dashboard console, clicking on the keys at mach 4. Whatever the CD-player/radio was looking for, he was finding it swiftly and without much issue, downloading the information, and moving on with glee to the next subject. The police impersonator was more engaged in watching the road than monitoring what Frenzy was doing.
“Cheese is a solid food made from the milk of cows, goats, sheep and other mammals,” the coffee-addict abruptly spouted. “Cheese is made by curdling milk using a combination of rennet (or rennet substitutes) and acidification. Bacteria culture acidify the milk and play a role in defining the texture and flavor of most cheeses. Some cheeses also feature molds, either on the outer rind or throughout.”
If Barricade had possessed optics in vehicle mode, he would have blinked. “What?”
“So say Wikipedia! Wiki wiki wiki!” Frenzy cackled and turned the computer screen towards Barricade’s hologram, as if he expected the false human to look and read what was on the screen.
The mustached psuedo-man didn’t, instead kept his eyes on the pavement. Tolerating his partner’s vast idiosyncrasies was slowly becoming the norm for him.
“Weird things these insects ingest,” Frenzy continued, staring with all four optics on the screen. “Mold? Products made from fermented plants and bovine excrements? There is bacteria in this human cheese slag that molds and makes it cheese! Two hours ago I read that bacteria was harmful to the flesh bags!”
Tolerating Frenzy’s use of the local slang was another oddity Barricade had long gotten used to. “We’re not here to understand the local life.”
“First rule of stealth operations on other worlds: Learn and understand local customs. You know this, Barricade!” Frenzy idly berated as he half concentrated on what was being said and what was showing up in his next word search.
The cars tail lights lit up brilliantly as he slammed on the brakes, sending Frenzy away from the console to smash face first into the dashboard. The Suzuki behind him blared the horn and zipped past as Frenzy clicked and whirred in mighty displeasure, recollecting himself in the passenger seat with a few rude humanoid hand gestures. Satisfied, the Ford checked over internal systems, spotting a red blip on the map. According to Barricade’s diagnostics he could make it another fifty-two miles before he reached critical energy drain and nonvital systems would begin to shut down. In other words, he needed gas. The river that the modified police cruiser had been following for some distance still laid with infinite complacency to his right as another blue highway sign approached. ‘Gasoline: Chevron, BP, Texaco’ it read, white letters and symbols strewn across a backdrop of cobalt blue.
Frenzy perked up and looked slightly more alert to his surroundings as Barricade took I-84 Exit 65 into The Dalles. “Where--?”
“Gasoline,” Barricade rapidly answered. “I need to refuel.”
“Ooooh!” The compact radio twitched and wriggled all twelve fingers and thumbs eagerly. Amusement always awaited him at the truck stops and small country towns. It was the big cities that he had to watch out for. “Coffee?”
“I really wish you wouldn’t, Frenzy, but do whatever you must.”
The green and white neon of the BP station blinked monotonously ahead of them as they rounded the bend off of the highway and onto a small rural road. It was barely two lanes wide and filled with enough potholes to inconvenience Devastator. It was a relatively small stop, with three gas stations, two fast food places, and a convenience store, none of which captured Barricade’s attention. Unfortunately, being what he was, he couldn’t fill his own gas tank without transforming, and obviously, that option was out of the question. The bane of having no hands in vehicle mode. That, and seeing a pair of arms on a car would bring a few odd looks from the locals for certain.
Frenzy lifted his left hand and tapped on his chest, chirping and clicking, bringing his hologram online as he slid over into the drivers seat after the Mustang turned off his own. When he swung the driver’s door open, all the humans saw was a plain clothes police officer, short for a man in the society at 5’6”, with short brown hair and brown eyes. Nobody took a second look as the cloaked mechanoid grabbed a wallet he’d stolen from a local terran back in Louisville from the dashboard compartment. Nobody suspected a thing when the officer handed over a fifty-dollar bill to gas up his vehicle. Nobody knew that the human holding the pump wasn’t human at all. Barricade sat in silence with his radio on and the windows down, watching as the locals moved around him in monotony. The Decepticon duo had this particular routine down to a science; Frenzy filled while the police impersonator played the role of exactly what he was pretending to be: a human-driven and human-controlled non-intelligent transport vessel.
There was more to him than met the eye. The creatures around him just didn’t know it.
Tank at full, Barricade parked and allowed Frenzy the temporary freedom of ‘stretching his legs’. The Ford Saleen knew that his partner was talented at keeping to himself and wasn’t particularly worried about them being caught or figured out. He just made sure to place himself in an inconspicuous area to wait, this time being the side of an abandoned building across the street from the BP station. It was doubtful that anyone would even realize he was there, much less get to reading the scripture on the side of his car mode. It was amazing to Barricade, the stupidity of these beasts. His symbol was brightly emblazoned in a very visual fashion, as where the obvious words “to punish and enslave”, and none of the terrans had ever even approached his hologram driver about it. They were a primitive, dense, and violent race that preferred killing each other to worrying about what some police car was doing on the highway.
So Barricade sat. And waited.
Frenzy, meanwhile, was temporarily satisfied. His systems were busy griping at the quality of the gas station java that he’d introduced, but for the most part, aside from the mild clogging discomfort, he ignored it. Still cloaked by the plain-clothes hologram, Frenzy made his way towards a field on the opposite side of the two-lane road, peering at something he spotted in the short distance. He locked on and zoomed in with binocular vision, tilting his head at the strange, four legged black and white creatures he saw. The data he’d been soaking up all day told him they were cows, domesticated ungulates, a member of the subfamily Bovinae of the family Bovidae. It was where milk and butter came from. Frenzy idly wondered: if the milk comes from those…things…where does the butter come from?
He glanced about. After ensuring that none of the ridiculously inferior humans were looking, Frenzy dropped his cloak and crawled under the fence, hidden by the ditch and the tall grass as he sneakily made his way towards the large red building. The hyperactive Decepticon couldn’t remember reading what the red building was called at the moment, but apparently it housed some sort of living creature. Pausing at the edge of the grass, Frenzy rested his weight on all fours like a steaknife-covered canine of doom, waiting for the household leading male to make his way from the mail recieval unit back to the front door of the house not sixty yards away. Coast clear. Frenzy stood up and meandered over to the door of the barn, cautiously peering in, scanning the dimness before easing a step or two inside. He switched to infrared, turned his head right –
-- And nearly had kittens when he found himself staring up the long nose of a very, very large and curious earth creature. Frenzy clicked and squeaked and leapt backwards with a yell of surprise, backing against the opposite wall. The animal jerked its head up and let its ears drift back unsurely, and for several seconds, the two just stared at each other. They were unfamiliar to one another as much as any two beings could be. That is not a cow, the radio-mech thought with a twitch and a tilt of his head. He peered down the shedrow, spotting several more boxes that each held one of those strange critters in it. Each stall was 10’ x 12’ wide, or so is scanners told him, and floored with a type of earth grass to keep the animals comfortable. But what were the creatures themselves?
Easing to the middle of the isle, Frenzy crept forward in the dark, the light from the open doorway playing across his reflective metal. Each creature stuck his or her head over a half door in the boxes, watching him as he lurked past. However, in the last stall in this strange red building sat not another beast, but several hefty squares, made up of two kinds of earth grass. The critters must have required different sorts of bedding to sleep in.
Footsteps.
Frenzy whirled around as his hypersensitive audios picked up the distant sounds of boots crunching gravel, steadily gaining in volume as the human neared the barn. Frantically, he took a single second to pick out a hiding spot and leapt into the box nearest to him, planting his back against one of the hay bales. The footsteps echoed into the wooden building, and the female human who had entered spoke to the animals. Surely she does not expect them to communicate back, Frenzy mused to himself as he kept still and quiet. The footsteps came closer again. Closer still. A click, and the ceiling lights turned on, destroying the darkness that he had been hiding in. Frenzy held himself, ready to transform to his alternate mode at a second’s notice, but the human girl stopped at the stall next to the one he was hiding in. A few more seconds of tense silence passed before relief was felt; the girl was retreating back to the mouth of the building. That was good. Frenzy had explored enough for one pit stop.
Barricade was still parked beside the abandoned shop when Frenzy came streaking up, concealed for the most part by the simplicity of the setting sun. The passenger door swung open, and Frenzy leapt in.
The Ford Mustang revved and merged back onto the highway as the sun set to the west, the direction he was headed. “Enjoy yourself?” he rasped, not really caring about the answer, be it an affirmative or not.
“Funky critters and beasts on this planet,” Frenzy replied, resuming his Internet antics. He still wanted to know what those long-nosed animals were. “Mhmhmhm..Horse! Equus caballus, a large, odd-toed ungulate mammal configured for carrying humans on their backs or hauling a load hitched to carts. Kingdom: Animalia. Phylum: Chordata. Class: Mammalia. Order…”
Barricade sighed and drove into the night.