Bucket Boy let out another shriek as he accidentally hit the horn.
Make way for the big shot! Bawk!
“Weren’t you driving transports on the last floor?” Donut asked. She remained in the back, inspecting the contents of the freezer chest. Her little legs dangled out of the unit as she peered inside.
“I have driven acartbefore!” Bucket Boy said, his voice going up an octave. “It didn’t have any of these handles and pedals and extra buttons!”
“If Miss Beatrice could drive, you certainly can. And you’ll have Dr. Metcalf helping you.”
Bucket Boy looked as if he were about to bolt. “I don’t know who Miss Beatrice is.”
“She only got, like, five or six tickets,” Donut added. “She only got them when the cop was a woman or they were gay. At least that’s what she was always saying.”
“I don’t know what any of that means.”
The GPS beeped.We’re all going to die.
“You’ll be fine,” I said. “Let me do this, and I’ll run through it for you.” I returned my efforts to breaking the giant tommy gun. I grunted and pulled. Standing on the floor of the garage was Rend wearing his new headband and making his own groaning noises as I strained.
Just as I felt as if the gun was about to give, I received a notification.
You do not have the ability to make changes to the stock configuration of your vehicle at this time.
“Shit,” I muttered.
“Carl, every time I remove food from the freezer, it just comes back, like, ten seconds later! I put it in my inventory, but it just keeps coming. We could literally open a restaurant with all this stuff. Where are they getting all these chickens?”
“Which pedal makes us stop?” Bucket Boy asked.
I mentally played out the plan we’d worked out with Chiyome and the bugbears. I was going to have to shatter our own windshield the moment the race started. Donut needed to be quick with her crossbow.
Race starts in ten minutes.
“Rend,” I called, pulling the pet carrier out. I still had the truck passenger door open, and he stood there, looking at me, panting weirdly like a dog. The inside of his mouth was absolutely filled with smashed, uncooked French fries. “Want to go for a ride, buddy?”
He let out a deep giggle and let me zap him away.
I turned my attention back to the GPS.
“Uh, Dr. Metcalf? Show us the information, and show the map.” The display lit up red. “Please,” I added, and the display color turned blue.
Path assignment: Left path.
Starting grid: Spot #7.
Distance: 10 kilometers.
Track: Asphalt-paved road. Rolling hills.
Tasks required to complete: Each path is of equal length. Each path has a gatekeeper monster along that path that must be killed to resume.
Environment: Torrential downpour of rain and giant hail.
Hazards: I thought a cat driving was a 50/50 death sentence, but now that we’ve actually put a prepubescent crocodile behind the wheel, I see you’re not leaving anything to chance.
Time Limit: 3 hours.
“Hey,” Donut called, “that was very rude, Dr. Metcalf. We’ve been nice to you. We need to all work together.”