Arnold the Newt 3: The Road Trip Part 3

To catch up, read this.

Arnold was ready.  In a deep state of relaxation from Pawse he pulled out of the used car dealership and was once again cruising the streets of Bakersfield, California.  Arnold was a clever newt however and this time he was on it, he was even driving on the correct side of the road.  As he went about looking for a petrol station he remembered it was called gas over here.  After narrowly avoiding some pioneering research into organic gas he found a place.  He sauntered in like it was a bar in a western movie.  Except it wasn’t and people started giving him worried looks.  He caught himself in the mirror and adjusted the green YaMaHaRaHaRa bandanna   As his newty eyes scanned across the alarming bright Hawaiian shirt and the denim shorts he thought the obvious.  Damn I look good.

To the relief of the staff he left the gas station, crossing out the word gas and writing petrol on his way.  He had a full tank of petrol, a tent, a map, a sleeping bag, food and water.  He could begin.  He sailed over the tarmac and fell further in love with the car.  First of all it was a red soft top, Arnold’s favourite colour was red!  The freedom of no roof also did his newt need for space the world of good.  The dents did it for him to, his car was truly unique.  More than that though, the makers had been so thoughtful Arnold beamed.  There were all these fun games to play; like guess the speed or catch the flying car part.  The thing Arnold liked the most were the keep fit indicators.  You actually used your arms to signal!  He was looking forward to be being buff.  Yep, Arnold was a happy newt as he left Bakersfield and entered the sandy desolate fringes of the Mojave Desert.

It was early evening and the sun was just beginning to set.  It looked beautiful, which was a relief for Arnold because until this point there had been nothing but sand and the occasional sun bleached bone.  He was more bored than a MC on an instrumental track.  I feel that if Arnold were to tell you anything right now it would be this, just fly over it.  Then it dawned on Arnold, he had a map!  Without a second thought he swerved off the road with a satisfying tyre squeal  and went to find a more interesting route.  As Arnold explored the Mojave he saw lots of things, but mainly just more sand and cacti – but there was a crazy man rocking unstably on the floor.  “I’m ready for you death claws…I’m ready?” Matthew Angliss whispered shakily.  Needless to say Arnold drove on.  Finally it was dark so he stopped and  put up his tent in the beam of his one working headlight.  Arnold was speechless.  The car was even energy-saving!!

If Arnold had paid attention in geography he would have known that deserts are cold at night.  He went and found the sleeping Matthew Angliss and proceeded to rob him.  He took matches, tinder and an Xpress Games mug, .  Arnold huddled for warmth in his sleeping bag as he watched the fire burn and looked at the star filled sky.  He looked down at the fire and in the flickering light saw a white-robed and hooded figure coming towards him.  Instantly Arnold wished he’d also stolen the gun, he felt around for a weapon.  Ready for action he stood brandishing the Xpress Games mug, it’s strong white surface reflecting the flickering fire.  The figure approached until it was standing the other side of the fire.

“Put down the mug you crazy newt!”  The figure’s voice sounded like a gruff wise old man.

“Who are you?! Are you a death claw?” Arnold stammered, pacing from foot to foot defensively.

“What? No, they don’t exist.  I have been watching you, newt.  I would like you to come with me”.

“So you’re not a jedi? And why?!”

“No, I am a monk – but do not judge a book by its cover.  Seriously, the disappointment.  There’s beer and War of the Worlds on blu-ray”.

“Ok, I guess” conceded Arnold.

“Good, now drive me back – I can’t be arsed with the walk”.

Arnold packed up his tent and he and brother… wait a second.  Arnold! You didn’t ask him what his name was!

“So, what’s your name?” asked Arnold completely out the blue.

“My name young Arnold, is Brother John”.

They continued on for five minutes to a small hill, on which stood a large house. Ivy climbed across the bricks as two Labradors guarded the front lazily.  John and Arnold stepped in.  John disappeared into a room yelling “the beers are in the fridge”.  Engaging his newt-tastic sense of direction he walked down the hall, past a stair case and swung a left.  He was in a room.  A sofa lined the wall and the room stretched down further to a wooden table and a set of french doors.  Importantly though, there was no fridge!  Arnold spied another doorway  next to the sofa though and as he entered it was right in front of him.  It was at this point he respected the monk, hiding a fridge in plain sight right were you’d expect it – in a kitchen!  Skills.  Arnold wandered back to the front door and saw yet another door he’s not seen before next to the stairs.  Arnold entered new door, realised it was a living room and sat down next to John on a big sofa.

“So Arnold try some of this, I call it Round Boy’s Ruin”.

Arnold took a swig and blacked out.

Arnold awoke.  His eyes cracked open letting the cold morning light filter through.  He took the plunge and opened them fully.  He was back out in the desert.   The sand was scattered with big rocks, and a punch bag.  John was there sitting cross-legged and looking focused on a flat rock.  He smiled with the smile of someone that’s about to steal a mans biscuits.

“I glad you’re awake Arnold – now we shall begin.”  As john finished the sentence he levitated.

What followed was an intense training session.  First Arnold meditated, not licking his eyes took great mental strain – a little bit of wee did come out.  Then he ran jogged on the spot before doing press ups.  John like a good monk did none of this with him and just sat there, floating a meter off the ground watching his orders become reality.  It was coming up to mid-day and Arnold was finally given a break.  He was handed a refreshing pint of Guiness and ordered towards the punch bag.

“Now, smash it?” suggested John in a way that really offered no alternative. Arnold did this for an hour.  There were so many beads of sweat on his body they’d knitted themselves together into a stylish cape.  His punches were doing less damage than aggressive feather.  Arnold was on the verge of collapse when John yelled stop.

“That’s enough, sit” ordered John.

“Wha..what am I training for?” Arnold asked breathlessly.

“Oh nothing, you just puked all over my floor after the Round Boy Ruin and I was pissed.  So, you want to float like me – and more?”.

“Yeah, sure, looks like it could be useful” Arnold replied.  John’s eyes flared in anger.  John did not understand however that newts consider themselves pretty super already.

“Ok, drink this”.  John handed Arnold a small bottle.  As Arnold drank it he felt his entire body vibrate.  He wanted to run to all the places as an energy rush over took his body.  Looking down at his palms he saw the lines glow celestial blue.  John handed Arnold the bottle of Round Boy Ruin and gestured him to take a swig.

John took a few steps back as Arnold’s eyes looked in different directions and he slumped to the floor.

To be concluded, again.

David Horn

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

Arnold the Newt 3: The Road Trip Part 1

Arnold the Newt 3: The Road Trip Part 2


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