SD 06/14/03 "Dinner and an Explosion" aka "MiT - Men in Trek" #6 - Two altercations in less than a day, with Demian involved in both.
Not long after the fiasco at the fuel station and those "Elvii," Ensign Ennin and I were talking over the comm about how to get rid of the pink topless car he swiped from the "Elvii" to get away. Then I see his car flip, and Ennin tumbled out onto the road. The car crashed, and Ennin was in bad shape. He managed to groan something about the wheel falling off. The owner must have been doing just enough maintenance on the old car for it not to fall apart at low speeds and once on the highway it couldn't take the strain. Either that, or those stories about 20th Century cars built on Monday morning and Friday late afternoon have a few grains of truth. In any event, it left Ennin as living proof demi-human felinoids, unlike true cats, do not always land on their feet. The poor guy broke a leg and a rib, the latter puncturing a lung. Lynx had to work on that before using the bone-knitter and tissue regenerator, but ended up sealing her finger into the wound. Fortunetly a little work undid that, and I helped set the leg before the bones were knitted.
Maybe it's my reading up on Earth history that enabled me a familiarity with this place, maybe it's the popularity of the media of the time back home, but I sometimes forget how so much here is unfamiliar to some and sometimes even myself. Dammers used his phaser rifle to open the trunk of the crashed car, not knowing what it ran on. It was Melvin who reminded him, and Dammers took off, the car exploding seconds later. A cinder caught Tarra's tail afire. A flying suitcase hit me in the gut. Dammers was amazed at the realization, wondering WHY 20th Century vehicles used flamable fuels. I tried to explain, but Lynx put it simply, "They didn't have the luxury of enslaving a starfaring race and skipping the Industrial Age." She also mentioned reading from a Vulcan book reports of politicians covering up research in physics that could have helped produced better engines. But the Vulcans tend to think of humans as "emotional" upstarts. Besides, I'm not one for conspiracy theories, as one guy put it, "Never pin on conspiracy what can be blamed on incompetance." Sadly, the politics of this time has seen a lot of it that would have been funny if not for the consequences.
We didn't dwell on discussing things long as we were hungry, and soon came across a sign to a restaraunt, the "Ozark Diner." The smell of ham filled the air, making most of us happy, though Lott wasn't thrilled. When we got the menus, she felt them "indecent," although was able to find something to her liking. So were the rest of us. Most of us sat at one table while Dammers and Lynx sat alone. I guess they needed some private time to discuss things, considering how affectionate they've been with one another. They've been getting some ribbing from the group about it as well, notably Tarra. I honestly hope Lynx will understand the part about Ironbottom ordering Dammers to spy on her, and he changing his mind once he got to know her. And what is this "end of June" thing Dammers mentioned about her?
The waitress gave us some odd looks, but as it was around the time of Haloween here, said nothing. Well, almost nothing as most of us wanted samples of quality American South cusine. Demian wanted a burger and several orders of fries. He ordered them with "extra spit, roaches, and a few fingers." If it was anyone else, I would have shrugged it off as a joke about 20th Century fast food horror stories. But this was Demian, and for all I know he could have been serious.
Brundle commed me while we were waiting for our food. He had made some progress heading to Las Vegas, but the vehicle he was in broke down and was now in a small town. The call was staticy, but he said something about finding some "gizmo" with the word "Vegas" on it. "His" suit had been stolen, and he hoped those who had it would be lured there so he could get it. He was trying to tell us who it was, 'Men in ' something, but static over the comm kept us from hearing. Between the static and the waitress coming over with the food, we cut the call short. I wonder what "Men" Brundle's talking about?
But the arrival of food diverted our minds from our problems for a little while. I never claimed to be among those who could tell the difference between food made from a replicator and food that was hand-cooked, but this was the best steak I can recall tasting. If only Tongo Rad and those zelots could see me then. But unfortunetly the pleasure was short-lived. Even Demian's comments about "extra protein" in the food failed to phase my appetite. But then he made a scene over his hamburger, demanding "my money back" even though I was the one paying for it. The waitress tried to be reasonable, but Dem's ranting got the attention of the chef, who came over, and Demian threw the burger right in his face. The chef fell backward, and onto an occupied table that launched plates of food our way. I ended up with salad all over me. Demian got a pie in the face. After he thre it on the waitress, the chef lost his temper and grabbed him. Demian punched him, the waitress wacked him over the head with a tray, and finally Tarra had enough and picked him up and carried him out. I tried to apologize to the man, but he took a swing at me and ordered the whole group to leave.
By now, word about the "Elvii" incident is probably getting around, and when these people hear about it, they'll probably tell the police as well. I'm begining to wonder if we should have this van repainted. On the other hand, we can comm the Freedom to disrupt the police by accessing their records of our description. Thank goodness all we're facing is pre-warp technology.
NARRATIVE: The van Brundle and friends are in breaks down, and they walk to a town. There, he sees a motorcycle tough beat locals in arm-wrestling matches, and decides to join in. He doesn't just beat him, but breaks his arm. Unfortunetly for him, a seven-foot massively muscular biker bursts in, sees the injured man, and demands, "WHO HURT MY LITTLE BRO'?!!"