Arnold the Newt 3: The Road Trip Part 1

The clouds drifted through the sky, bulging with snow.  Below in the dark lay the town of Wickham-under-Siege.  A patchwork of roofs stared up at them.  Flat ones, terraces – there were even pointy ones that looked  like really odd but ‘artistic’ boobs.  Under one of the flat roofs Arnold slept.  He was dreaming about killer snowmen, partly because he’d fallen asleep to Dr Who but mostly because newts can’t handle the snow.  Arnold woke up just as the dream was reaching its horrific climax.  The Snowmen had him!  Worse, they were about to make him watch My Super Sweet Sixteen.   Arnold looked out as snow drifted like melty knives of doom at his window.  His newt senses tingled and a thought leaped across his brain.

R                O              A              D             T               R                I                P

He smiled with excitement and licked his eye with his newty tongue.  He stared out at the snow with the fierce intensity of someone who had just seen the last biscuit snatched away by an unsuspecting future victim.  Meanwhile his thoughts had gone into movie voice-over mode.  “Arnold the Newt; fighting snow, driving fast and eating biscuits – like a boss”.  Arnold left his flat.  He’d still not moved from the genius one room flat with the kitchen and bathroom in easy reach of the bed.  After robbery number fifteen though he had downgraded the security.  The Repel door-less Doorway 5000 had become a straight up door.  After putting on thermal undies, five layers, two hoodies and a coat he was good to go.

Every road trip needs a bitch; y’know someone to lift stuff, stick petrol in the car, take the shame when directions from strangers are needed – the usual things.  The word Arnold probably meant was companion.  None the less he was banging at Carlos the Angry Cat’s door.  Carlos appeared.  Angry at all times, sleepy Carlos was the worst.  The first and the most offensive word to cat kind to leave his mouth was “Pussy”.  This happened twenty times for new letters happened.

“It’s 6am, why are you at my door? Why do you look like the guy that recovered Captain America from the crash?”

“It’s snowing!” stressed Arnold, “I’m a newt.”

Carlos looked on blankly, standing in a Avengers t-shirt three sizes too big.

Frustrated, Arnold continued “newts like licking things.  It’s kinda what we do.  We especially like licking our eyes.  In the snow our tongues get stuck to our eyes.  Problem.  So we are going to go on a road trip to somewhere warm!”

“Make me leave this building and I will make you do the best and most detailed snow angel the whole world has ever seen”.

Horrified, Arnold walked away and down the stairs.  He braved the snow fall like Scott of the Antarctic, nobly dodging small disappointed looking children trying to find enough snow to at least make a footprint.  He cautiously ran down the street as someone who had to get toilet paper before answering an urgent call of nature might until he found his car.  The ex-mountain rescue land rover was camouflage and battered, still against the urban jungle it still took him a while.  He jumped in, as his tongue flicked up. Then he sped out the city.

Cruising along the motorway Arnold tried to remember the Great British deserts.  He was always bad at geography though and couldn’t remember any.  So he drove about, and about, and then along.  Then he saw a hastily erected sign for 100% safe teleport services with only eight accidents, and a whole eight users.  He drove for a day along the motorway, before taking an exit and entering an abandoned business park.  The sky was grey above the concrete buildings   Broken doors and boarded up windows lined the street as he drove through the village of business that was the park. Crows flew from the decaying buildings as he passed.  In the center of an abandoned car park was a  glowing orange screen the size of a double decker bus.  Wearing ear defenders against the electric hum sat a bored looking teenager with a 90’s computer and a till.  All this was supported on a lemonade stand that looked like it had been put together by Ozzy Osbourne.  It even had ‘Sharon’ scratched on it’s side.  The teenager, who’s name badge tells me his name was Darren looked equally bored at the idea of serving.

“Oi mate, would you like to take a trip? Anywhere, any dimension – £4.78.”

To be continued.

David Horn

Related Posts:

Story: Arnold the Newt 1:  The Life and Times

Story: Arnold the Newt 2: The Case of the Camden Drug Dealers

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