"WHO THE FUCK IS THE HULK LOOKING BASTARD!?" Crown demanded staring wide-eyed at the mohawk man.
"What do you mean? It's Foxly!" Bromy replied, seemingly forgetting the fear he felt at the mere idea of talking to him earlier.
Bromy was standing against the side of the car smoking.
"The rest of you look... disturbingly like your in-game characters," she said looking at the group.
"Really?" Bonifacius looked down unable to see the resemblance, both Bromy and Pedecree exchanged a look of "He really does look like Bonifacius from the neck up."
"You look different than I imagined..." Bromy said looking at Crown.
"Please tell me you didn't think I'd be a red-haired midget IRL..." she sighed pinching the roof of her nose in irritation.
"Nooooo......?" he replied uncertainly.
Crown wasn't tall by any stretch of the meaning, but she wasn't a midget either, just a bit short.
Black hair tied back into a ponytail and bangs.
She had a computer-bag over her shoulder, inside she had a tablet.
"Hmmm... I see the resemblance..." Pedigree admitted scratching his beard.
"Frog-people can't have black hair, alright?!" she exclaimed.
As soon as Bromy finished-up smoking they all went inside of the car and kept driving.
Inside she opened the bag and retrieved a small laptop, on its sides were dozens of cables leading back into the bag and little USB stick-looking things.
"Fancy," Bromy remarked glancing back to look at the computer.
A smug smile crept onto Crown's face.
"Thanks, this bad boy is a custom-build powerhouse of a computer, I have it hooked up to a portable router. I even wrote my own OS from scratch! It was...-"
The rest of the group tuned her out, they immediately regretted mentioning her computer.
"-and that's how I had the IP tracker installed, anyway - since the game wouldn't run on my CrownOS I had to re-work a lot of it...-"
"Oh my god... she's still going on..." Realised Bromy, he looked over to Bonifacius who was looking out the window of the car, his face drained of all colour.
"SHE'S KILLING HIM WITH COMPUTER-TALK!"
"-so yeah, tracking JohnWillStab will be a bit more difficult, but I finally get to test my program out! I'm sure it won't be much worse than the fancy tech made for Mycrowsoft computers, anyway...- "
Bromy was starting to grow tired of the talking, how could one person go on for this long about computers?!
He looked back to Bonifacius who was now crying as a defeated smile spread across his face.
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"Poor bastard..." he thought as he looked over to Pedecree who was surprisingly calm.
Bromy looked at him once more and saw that he was completely spaced-out.
"Hey, are you alright?" Bromy whispered, Crown was too busy explaining the intricacies of her OS and how if she had the materials she could totally make her own hardware too.
"I was a taxi-driver for seven years of my life... I can tune people out better than anyone," he replied equally quiet.
"And I didn't even get to the best part!...-" she exclaimed as Bonifacius burst into a violent wail, but his cries went to waste as Crown was too into her lecture to notice.
Bonifacius saw his only escape before him, he pulled on the door handle only to hear a click.
Bonifacius looked up to Pedecree who had his finger over the child-safety-lock button.
"Sorry Bony, it's locked while we're moving..."
"Speaking of locks, I made this really fancy encryption system, the input info is so random it picks random places around the world and takes the air pressure and humidity as some of the seed information!"
Bonifacius started crying once more as he started hitting his head against the chair in front of him.
Meanwhile, behind them, Foxly dragged in his little car, every time they stopped he had just enough time to see them before they drove off once more.
As Foxly drove up his final hill the car let out a puff of smoke as it died.
"No! Don't give up, car!" Foxly cried.
"What the hell are you doing in a toy!?" An old man demanded, he was sitting outside on his porch.
"I have to catch up with my friends, alright!" Foxly called out.
"So you're driving a pink, plastic car?" the old man asked.
"Hey, a car's a car..." Foxly replied uncertainly.
The old man let out a sigh as he stood up.
He walked with a serious limp, he had a walking stick in one hand.
"You won't get anywhere with that toy..." he scoffed.
The man made his way to his garage.
He stood around the garage door.
"Help me out here." he gestured towards the door.
Foxly got out of his car and rushed over to him, opening the door and seeing it.
Black in colour, with flames painted on it.
A massive exhaust and leather seats.
It was still a toy car, just a fancier one.
"I too once wished to win the toy-car-Olympics..." the old man replied standing there for a solid twenty seconds looking at the flashbacks.
"The what now?!" Foxly thought
"I can tell, you're someone with a toy-car spirit." the old man said tossing a small key chain at him.
Foxly caught the keys in mid-air, he got into the car and plugged the keys in, only for the car to begin shaking.
"It's shaking!" he exclaimed.
"This isn't some battery-powered toy!" the old man laughed.
Foxly looked back to the old man, "Thanks for the car..."
"Don't thank me yet! You better bring back a gold medal from the toy-car-Olympics!"
Foxly wiped a single (manly) tear from his eye with his sleeve.
"You know I will," he replied giving the old man a thumbs up and an optimistic grin.
He pulled back the hand brake and sped off, going way over the speed limit as the dot in the distance started resembling a van once more.
"I got this!" he said to himself as he drove, weaving in between the cars before him.
Behind him he heard the sound of police sirens, he looked back only to see a police car chasing him, after all, not only was he driving a toy car on the actual road, he was also driving WAY over the speed limit.
"Shit, that's going to be trouble..." he exclaimed.
As Foxly was driving forward he had to make a crucial decision... should he slow down and explain to the cops what was going on?
Foxly grinned as he came up with an answer "Hell no! I have three days to stay on earth, I might as well do something cool!"
That's when he remembered what his grandfather definitely told him when he was a young boy.
"Remember m'boy, if you ever find yourself in a race you can't win, press the big red button in the front of the car you get from a stranger twelve years later!"
Realizing this was probably a race he wouldn't win, he smashed the button as a pair of shades popped up and "Daler Meh*di - Tu*ak Tunak Tun" started playing.
He put the shades on and realised the car was already going a bit faster.
"That's right, Foxly, you have to go faster, like your dead grandfather who died twelve years ago in a toy-car-driving incident in India that your parents never told you about!"
He sped forwards weaving in and out of the cover of cars, the police, tired of his shit decided to call for backup.
Before he knew it, seven identical cars were chasing him, he looked forward, seeing a long belt of spikes, a common trap used to pop the escapee's tires.
"Oh no! What do I do!?" Foxly wondered.
"Think Foxly, think what you dead grandfather would have done!"
Foxly thought back remembering the scene before him, he was too young to remember what was going on, but a load of toy cars were racing, his grandfather was driving in a black one, he was in first place when suddenly a man from the crowd tossed a length of rope with nails sticking out onto the track.
His grandfather couldn't stop in time and fell out of the car and off the giant cliff beside them.
"That wasn't much help..." Foxly realised.
He thought even harder, the first thing his grandfather ever said to him:
"If there is a long spiky thing on the road you're fucked!"
At a loss, Foxly considered giving up.
He chuckled to himself, "No, I can't do that, I have to bring back a certain old man a gold medal first!" he exclaimed as he drew dangerously close to the trap, he turned his car to the right by ninety degrees and smashed onto his breaks as his car flew into the air, flipping around and landing on the other side of the trap.
Foxly sped on as the cop-cars were forced to wait while they removed the trap.
He kept going, and he never stopped until seeing the sign "Official toy-car-Olympics."