Arnold the Newt 3: The Road Trip Part 5

Read this to catch up.

Arnold had never been in an eighteen wheeler before.  Frankly he was disappointed.  It looked just like the inside of a normal car with its grey plastic interior, just mildly more comfy with a few blankets.  The in-built bed was a good look though Arnold had to admit.  Arnold was considering getting out of the eighteen wheeler when he heard sirens.  Looking towards his new best friend, they both nodded and all eighteen wheels spun into life shooting the lorry forward like a deformed bullet that enjoyed a cake or five.

Dry arid land sped past the window as blue lights flashed closer and closer in the mirrors.  Arnold broke into a sweat.  He didn’t want to be busted for catapulting a car high into the sky with his mind but also saw that years of trucking alone had done his driver’s mental state more harm than good.  The truck crossed in and out of the lanes and the lights were catching up as the trucker screamed ‘Yeeeehah’.  Arnold could read the name badges of the drivers!  As he questioned whether having name badges when you’re a policeman was a good idea a car charged past them.  A vintage looking Dodge with an aging driver flew past shooting into the air as he did.  The lorry’s radio sparked into life.

‘This is the Bandit, repeat this is the bandit, I got your back!’

In the wing mirror Arnold saw Bandit pull up, get out and began to juggle.  The police stopped.  They looked impressed and sat on the hoods of their cars clapping.  Arnold sighed with relief and slumped back into his seat.  For the first time he eyed up his mentally unstable driver.  He sat in red fur lined cap and blue checked shirt, swigging something pungent from a hip flask. Arnold got worried.  Was he crazy AND drunk?  That was a fatal combination.  Arnold sniffed with his newty tongue.  Apple, banana, mango.  Arnold was so happy a little wee came out.

‘Hey man, I’m Jonas.  Want to come on adventure with me?  I’m delivering some fancy teleport to Chicago’ ventured Jonas.

Arnold thought for a second.  The snow had probably gone now from back home, he could go back without the risk of his tongue freezing to his eye.  An idea was happening.  Arnold could tell because his head hurt.  Safe to go home.  Teleport.  Adventure?  Arnold smashed these words together in his head.  There was a plan here, a genius one.  A plan crafted at a banquet of cunning foxes.  But what was it? Ahhhhhh hah!  Arnold’s brain was so excited he got a nose bleed.  He also realized he’d been staring for five minutes so decided to use some words.

‘Hi, I’m Arnold.  That sounds great!  Lets do it!’ Jonas looked mildly confused but was happy to have someone to talk to.

For five days Jonas regretted picking up this newt intensely.  He wanted to talk about the cool powers Arnold had but all Arnold wanted to talk about was biscuits.  In fairness to Arnold, talking about biscuits continuously for five days is fairly impressive.  Luckily they arrived in Chicago before Jonas’ urge to shot himself arrived in reality.  The eighteen wheeler squeezed through Chicago’s streets carefully, like a tip-toeing elephant.  Arnold looked down out the window, it was cold.  Really cold.  The remains of ice and snow littered the paths like stubborn frosty ghosts.  Arnold began to think his Hawaiian shirt and sandals might not cut it.  Eventually they reached their destination.  The Chicago Cubs stadium.  They pulled in and Arnold whelped in anticipation of the cold.  As Jonas, clad in a thick winter coat unloaded the back of the huge lorry Arnold decided to sleep.  Talking about biscuits is tiring.

Arnold awoke several hours later.  It was dark outside but the teleport was built!  Arnold like his eyes in excitement. Home, he thought.  The giant orange square glowed dimly, showing the computer terminal in its 90s glory.  This was it.  Arnold wrapped himself in as many blankets has he could find.  Looking like a furry mole hill with a face Arnold crept over the baseball field to the terminal. Arnold felt around in the near dark for an on switch. As he felt about he saw in front of him a pair of pale and piercing big blue eyes staring at him from the stands.

The eyes leapt forward.  The movement activated the flood lights and revealed to Arnold the owner of the eyes.  Arnold is tall for a newt.  Six foot!  A fact he likes to impress on dates, along with the aid of one of his shoes. Even Arnold had to look up.  Standing at eight foot one and a half Arnold stood face to shoulders with a bear lizard!  Like a bad Underworld tag line these guys had the strengths of both and the weaknesses of none.  Arnold’s newty eyes looked at the bear lizard.  He began to tremble in fear, the head of the a bear turned into the broad shoulders and body of  a lizard that had hit puberty hard.  Growing through its scales was a think coat of brown fur stretching right down its long muscular tail.  Arnold’s eyes were fixated on the long reptilian claws dripping from its hands as the bear lizard began to speak.

‘I just watched the end of Surface.  It was terrible!   I’m angry!  I’m going to kill you dead newt’ the bear lizards eyes remained fierce as the friendly voice of someone who sounded like a laugh down the pub annoyingly met Arnold’s ears.

Really?!  Thanks, I was actually about to watch that … wait, what? Arnold’s face dropped as the gravity of the situation struck him.

‘Bye bye, I’ll give you a chance – 10 seconds!’

The bear lizard moved back a pace and glared at Arnold.  Arnold started to sweat, before remembering his training and focussed his mind.  Celestial blue light began once more to glow in his palms as Arnold met the gaze of the bear lizard.

‘4, 3, 2, 1’ counted the bear lizard.

Arnold had shot a car high in the air with his mind, he wasn’t worried.  This was a mistake.  Before Arnold could blink the bear lizard had driven a punch hard into Arnold’s chest and sent him up shattering in to the stands and knocking the blankets off him.  Arnold got up  and was glad to see Jonas looking active, he was less glad to see Jonas rest his feet on the dashboard with some mysterious pop-corn.  The bear lizard charged across the field as Arnold’s fists glowed blue as he threw himself from the stands and into his attackers path.  Still moving from the jump Arnold slammed a punch in to the bear lizards jaw.  There combined momentum sent the bear lizard literally feet back wards as he nearly lost his balance.

The bear lizard wiped a trickle of blood from his lip and straightened up.  Arnold jumped foot first at the bear lizards face, they don’t like this generally.  The bear lizard grabbed his foot before it could connect and swung him round and round.  He released Arnold and watched him fly back towards the stand.  A face of confusion crept over his face though as he blinked again to check his vision.  Arnold hung in the sky.  He hovered and looked equally surprized.  Jonas just ate his pop-corn.  Arnold dived down to earth, rolling as he hit the ground and landing a kick square in the bear lizard’s belly.  Before the bear lizard could recover Arnold swung punch after punch at his torso.  Taking his moment Arnold swung for his head using his heightened fists.  Sadly he missed, giving the bear lizard time to head butt him with a satisfying crack.

Arnold tumbled to the floor.  Laying on his back he was unable to move.  The bear lizard stepped over him as he curled his fists.  Back in the lorry Jonas reached into his glove compartment and pulled out his magnum.  He fired the chambers, hitting nothing – not even stadium.  Arnold found the strength to move and bristled with energy as he rugby tackled the distracted bear lizard however.  His tackle took the pair off the ground as the horrified bear lizard saw an advertising board charge towards him.  He flew through it and landed below it on the other side.  The board creaked as cracks surged up and down it.  The pieces rained down on the bear lizard as the wooden supports completed the wooden pile.

Sirens and horns wailed from across the city as the emergency services raced to the scene of the demolished stadium.  Arnold ran to the teleport control computer and thanked the power of plot importance that it and the teleport were still operational.  Reading up on the controls in a blink he dialed as close to Wickam-under-Siege as he could.  The big orange screen glowed bright as Arnold ran through it home.

The end.

David Horn

Related Posts:

Arnold the Newt 3: The Road Trip Part 3

Carlos the Angry Cat: The Back Story

Arnold the Newt 3: The Road Trip Part 4


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