Dave has a problem

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It was a tremendously small problem and it was bashing about in the boot. Annoyingly the use of the word tremendous or tremendously was becoming a meme of its own, that orange odd ball racing to drag America down seemed to own that word. He used it to describe everything, tremendously everything. Everything was tremendous. Dave has a problem.

Any who – the small problem wouldn’t be quiet. It just bashed, crashed and smashed itself about. Dave wondered how he’d get it to stop. The problem was wondering how it would stop as well.

Dave was a mindless worker bee at the local transport department but he’d had enough of the mindless nature of his existence. He wore a snappy corporate outfit to work each day. He felt proud enough of his appearance to launch a number of different hairstyles so he could land on the best one. Nothing was too much trouble, but his budget was not enough to fulfil the “too much trouble” perspective.

Today’s problem wasn’t his choice of haircut, it was a much larger, real life and warmer problem. It was alive, or at least it was when it went in.

The problem was usually called Sarah

She’d been walking along having a vivid dancing moment. The source of the vibe was pouring in though her headphones, Sarah completely missed the fact she’d wandered out onto the road. Dave was also enjoying his choice of tunes and was drumming the crap out of the steering wheel and the sweet spot on the door paneling that provided a tight snare drum sound. He failed to see Sarah, he felt her though as she bounced off the front of the car.

The thud, crush and splurge sound would haunt poor old Dave for a long time. The sound was a rude disruption to Sarah’s playlist. She heard it, felt it and when she woke up in the boot of someone’s car, remembered it. Where the fuck was she and what had happened.

She’d tried to move her legs but that caused a tremendously striking pain. A sharp pain that shot up to her head and back down to her mangled legs in a nano second. She was in bad shape, metaphorically and psychically. Twisted like a pretzel, without salt or pleasant after taste. She wondered about how much blood she had lost.

Dave was wondering as well. Dave had a problem and he was wondering about other things. He’d thrown Sarah into the boot and driven off at a great rate of knots, a tremendous speed actually. Could he take her to a hospital, dump her on the side of the road or deliver her to Bill.

Bill had a reputation

He was known locally as a complete nut case. He’d been in prison for murdering and chopping up a number of young girls. The number was a point of contention. 20 or 24, no-one knew for sure. Dave had known Bill since high school and he’d offered protection for Bill against the crazy bullies at high school. They’d loved to tease pimply fat Bill, he was a wide round target for the vicious nature of school yard knob heads.

Bill was keen to look after Sarah, but he already had a tremendous opportunity to deal with and didn’t have the room for another. Damn thought Dave, looks like I’ll take her to hospital and dump her at that employee smokers door that has the broken CCTV camera. He could be there in 10 minutes, just before the gang of puffers came out for their fag. Dave swung into the car park and found some serious lights flooding the carpark and doorway. Turns out a local production unit was filming a hospital scene for the latest Police drama.

The car park was full of trucks, food, personal, gawkers and hawkers. Dave was fucked. The real Policeman who was directing traffic and offering security stopped Dave and asked him the reason of this unusual visit. Cars did not access this space and the driving across the acres of lawn and manicured gardens highlighted to the observant Fun Stopper that something was wrong with Dave’s arrival.

It turned out that Sarah was still alive

She’d broken her legs, upset her tremendously complicated hairstyle and scrubbed her jacket. Once they found Sarah and swept her into the hospital, they forced their offical attention to Dave. Impressive thinking and clever response was called for, Dave struggled to achieve either. A tremendous opportunity now revealed itself. He’d tell the truth.

Dave did just that, described the problem, named the tune he had been drumming to, how he met Sarah and how he’d thought that putting her in the boot would be a good idea. All this sounded OK, except for the fact it was a good 36 hours later and he’d been driving for a fair 24 of those. Police checked his phone records, found his call to Bill and when the other Police checked the phone tap on Bill’s phone realised an impossible truth. Bill was in the middle of dismembering innocent young Ruth when the other Police dropped by. They saved Ruth and drove to her to hospital, coincidentally she ended up in the same room as Sarah.

Ruth survived Bill, and the removal of her arms and legs. Sarah survived Dave and had all of hers. The media circus was tremendous, the scandal of Bill, the stupidity of Dave and his problem, the sexy looks of Sarah and the odd curiosity directed at Ruth. Modern society is one fucked up place alright.


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