Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Where in the world is John C? Part Elf

(The inside joke is finally put to bed. Thank Jeebus!)

Oops! Apparently the real John C is already back home. I figured out that I'd better check out Brian P's blog to see how much longer I'd have to do this. I'll try to do some sort of quick wrap-up.

We left our heroes John and Megan in a shitty hotel somewhere in Bulgaria...

John and Megan woke up to the sounds of knocking on the door. John peeked through the peephole and saw that it was Interpol. They were looking for him for all of the crimes he committed in the past week or so. He would most likely be locked up in some place worse than a Turkish prison. Some place like Neverland Ranch. John couldn't bear the thought of imprisonment. He and Megan grabbed all of their luggage and jumped out the window and made a sprint for the garage. The Renault Le Car had been fixed, but he knew that the authorities would be looking for it. The garage owner had his pimped-out Yugo parked in front. John offered his Renault in exchange for the Yugo. The garage owner had always wanted a Le Car and couldn't pass up the deal of the century...that and the fact that the Yugo is an even bigger piece of crap. It was quite the car. There was a painting of the Bulgarian flag on the hood with a gigantic rear spoiler, spinning 20 inch rims, neon ground-effects, and tinted windows. It was very, very pimp. The Yugo engine runs on a very basic premise...the rubber band.

John and Megan peeled out of the garage and reached an exhilarating top speed of 32mph. Megan figured out that the neon and the 4 TVs were a big draw on the battery so they turned everything off and they hit 58mph. John found a hidden nitrous-switch and damned if that Yugo didn't hit about 100mph. They sped to Sofia and stopped at the train station. Megan had to go back to Athens. They shared a tearful goodbye and he waved to her as the train lurched southward. He would see her again soon someday.

John gathered his composure and drove off to Frankfurt to catch a flight back home. He drove non-stop for about a day and a half until he reached the Frankfurt. This was his chance to do a little last minute shopping before he flew home. He stopped at a German video store and picked up a few sheisse videos that had been banned in the US as well as a pair of crotchless vinyl lederhosen. He then went to grab some food and a beer. He found a little cafe and ordered a plate of Rindsroulade, Weisswurt, Kraut, Kartoffelsalat, and Pumpernickel. It was quite filling. The long, white sausage was not as satisfying as Spotted Dick in his mouth, but he was enjoying it nonetheless. He quaffed a few lagers, paid his tab, and went looking for a record store.

He found a place called Das Teknohut. It was there where he ran into his friend John K. It's a small world. John K had heard that they had just gotten a new Sheep on Drugs album remixed by Kraftwerk. He just had to make the trip to get it. It wouldn't be out in the US for another 2 weeks. John C took a look around. Most of the people in the shop looked like Dieter from Sprockets. John K fit right in. The record store had a separate room devoted to David Hasselhoff and also quite a nice Detroit techno selection. It was actually bigger than anything found in Detroit. There were posters of Detroit legends Kevin Saunderson, Carl Craig, and Juan Atkins hanging on the walls. John C rummaged through the racks until he found a very rare promo copy of "American Standard" by Mary's Danish. He paid about 100 marks for it...Euros...whatever. He bid his goodbye to John K. John K was going to stay around for a few days and take in the German culture. He was also going to explore the real Castle Wolfenstein. John sauntered of with his rare find and loaded everything up in the Yugo.

He drove to the airport and had has he Yugo checked as luggage...(it is the size of most carry-ons, you know). He found the Northworst counter and bought a direct ticket to Detroit. His flight was rather uneventful other than the fact that he was seated between an incontinent mouthbreather with chronic halitosis and Tourettes, and crying unaccompanied two-year old triplets with wicked gas. John slept through all of this. He had had quite the adventure. He'd have to change his identity when he got back as Interpol, Scotland Yard, and the Greek underworld were looking after him. That's the price you have to pay for love. It was all worth it. Plus he had the pimpinest ride of all of D-Town. All the Escalades, Navigators, and Caprices with gold spinners have nothing on John's new ride. After all, nothing says cool like a Yugo, but you already know that. John C changed his name to Mark Gardener, got a job at the Fairlane Olga's as a tray gatherer, and horded all the Spotted Dick he could get his hands on.




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