Now we’re in Wyoming, driving on a mountain path that’s only a single narrow lane, so if another vehicle were to approach us, we could not both fit: one of us would get pushed off the road and explode in flames.
“Look at all the pretty gazelles,” I say, “pouncing all around the mountainside.”
Now a gazelle comes and stands directly in our way, so Stegz tries to slam on the brakes, but a saboteur has apparently tampered with the Monte Carlo Eclipse’s braking system, because the car won’t stop. “This doesn’t make sense,” yells Stegz; “for we’ve spent most of our road trip driving — when would a saboteur have had time to tamper with our braking system?” “They probably did so when we stopped at the Mountain Diner to eat,” says Mickey. “Yes,” says Chris, “that would have provided the perfect opportunity for anyone who wants us dead to go lie under our vehicle and secretly vandalize our brake lines.”
“Here’s the plan,” Stegz announces while pressing down ineffectively on the braking pedal as our Monte Carlo Eclipse continues to speed toward the gazelle; “we’re gonna leap out of the windows and climb the mountain, all the way to the top, using ropes and hiking shoes.”
So we take out all our gear, hook on our harnesses, and begin our ascent.
“C’mon, Stegz,” I shout. “Why did you stop?” — But then we realize that Stegz has been eaten by a wild gazelle. Now the gazelle vomits him out at the top of the mountain: therefore Stegz wins the race to the top.
“Zoom, bang: I won!” says Stegz.
“It’s true,” I remark to Mickey and Chris; “Stegz has arrived at the peak first, with plenty of time to laugh at the rest of us as we struggle here below.”
“But, look,” Chris points: “the altitude level has made the air very thin. It would be too dangerous for us all to try to breathe up there.”
Also Mickey notes that lava is starting to run down the sides of the mountain.
Now Chris and Mickey die. So I decide to go back to the car and wait for Stegz there.
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