As you probably don’t know, Mark, my co-star from the previous ‘Hauntings‘ has moved on to different things. Seeing as how there will be no more adventures I thought it only appropriate to post the final chapter here.. and now.
Waking up in the middle of a panic situation is never fun. It was the middle of the night somewhere in Utah, we were heading back home to LA from the last leg of winter trade shows. I had dosed off just long enough to wake up to Marks concerned tone.. “Dude we are fucked”.
About 15 minutes prior Mark had asked me If I noticed that the head lights had been dimming.
“Not really” I said….not really.
As the cars electrical system slowly died, we prayed that the car would live long enough to take us to the next city about 16 miles ahead. My GPS said we made it a solid 9 before I asked Mark about the brakes.
“Do they work?”
“I’m not sure..haven’t tried them in a while.” Mark replied. Comforting.
The interior electronics fluttered, the speakers made the sound of a heart beat before dying, over and over again. It was as if you put a microphone up to a dying mans last heartbeats just before giving him the paddles… then letting him die again.
It was cold, the heater had gone out and we could see our breath inside the car. Still dazed and half asleep, I frantically google nearby tow trucks. The nearest town is still a solid 20 minutes away, it was 1:30 am.
I finally got a tow truck company to answer…
“Eh… i would say just ride it out as long as you can… then call back” said the helpful man.
Are you shitting me? It was pitch black outside and neither Mark nor myself were equipped to battle hoards of mutant inbred hillbillies. Shortly after i hung up with the man the car drifts to a stop, all the lights are dead. It’s times like these I regret not owning a hand gun.
Staring out the window into the dark frozen tundra, I realized that this is the exact situation my mother warned me about.. This is her worst nightmare. It’s pitch black outside and the only other thing on the road were the occasional 18 wheelers shooting by us at the speed of sound. We’ve still got the Airstream hitched up which is acting as a wind sale, the car jolts violently as each semi passes.
How the FUCK did this happen again? What are the odds of this? Last time we joked around saying.. “Well, at least it didn’t break down in the middle of nowhere.”
It was just going too smoothly I suppose.
“I predicted this…” mark whispered under his breath.
The Hazard Lights, our last beacon of hope, fluttered violently… A few last slivers of light pop out with each click of the signal. And then it was dead…
Everything in Denver went fine. Hotel was great, the show was fantastic… the second we entered Utah, shit went haywire. I’m burdened with a good imagination. I keep staring out into the pitch black field to the right, waiting to see:
A pack of wolves
A serial killer with a hook for a hand
A family of redneck homicidal maniacs that want to turn us into lampshades
The woman hitchhikers naked ghost
After i promised the man that we were in fact stranded, he agreed to send us a tow truck. We’d been sitting out in the cold for 41 minutes… The tow truck crept up in front of us. A bit nervous about the penis head on the phone, i anticipated a 9 foot tall Bluto in overalls wielding a shotgun… Instead, it was the spitting image of Chris Farley who jumped out of the drivers seat. The giant man leapt carelessly from the tow truck, damn near into an oncoming semi.
In the end we were saved, and made it home safely. Not before listening to Chris Farley’s horror stories of dead bodies on the highway, and our wonderful night in the shady back road motel that followed (lobby pictured above).
(The middle of nowhere, the next morning)
Though Mark is gone (not dead, just gone from here) our adventures will live on. Stay tuned for more episodes with the new guy.