Dort (part 2 of 900)

"Sir I think the SunDance has us - she's just too fast and manuverable!"
"We're dead meat - the Horizon class should have been retired years ago - we don't stand a chance!"
"God dammit LeBlond you shut up with that talk or I will have you removed from my fucking bridge. This bucket of bolts still has a few tricks up her sleeve. Regan - reduce speed - allow the SunDance to approach on our starboard side."
"What, but sir..."
"That is a fucking order Regan. Starboard battery - prepare to fire. Loaders - prepare the battery!"
"Gunners you fucking hold your fire until I fucking tell you"
"They are right on top of us - look at the size of her - we're done for"
"Starboard battery - F I R E!!!"
[thwack] [thwack] [thwack]
"Starboard battery reports several direct hits!!"
"Sir, she's accelerating - we won't be able to keep up with her."
"It doesn't matter - load torpedoes. Flood tubes 1 and 2."
"Sir - the SunDance has flooded her aft tubes and is going to fire"
"FLANK SPEED NOW REGAN!"
"But sir that will..."
"NOW!!!!"
The Horizon's reactor roared to life - the men all felt the surge as they were propelled towards the SunDance - and her aft firing torpedoes.
"She's firing!!"
"Sir - glancing blow - both torpedoes deflected off the bow with no damage!! You did it sir - we were too close for the torpedoes to arm."
"We won't make the same mistake. Tubes 1 and 2 fire on my command - but set the torpedoes for a short run... F I R E!!"
"Tubes 1 and 2 away - direct hit!!! We have her sir!!! We did it!!"

This may sound like the plot of Clancy novel (I mean with spelling errors). But it is my recreation of actual events of a faithful day in July of 1991. A day that would leave me hospitalized and on crutches.

The entire exchange above took place after going to "the city" to see a movie with my friends. I am not sure which movie it was, but you can bet your ass it was dorky if it required 2 car loads. The 2 car's were Eric's brand new 1991 Plymouth Sundance and Smell Bad's 1985 Plymouth Horizon. The weapons exchange was initially "Gummy Worms". We would suck on a Gummy Worm and then propel them at each other's cars - at highway speed. The impact sound on the opposing vehicle was a totally delightful [thwack]. The Worms would frequently stick and not detach until peeled off. The torpedo exchange is the 2 cars firing bottle rockets at each other... again at highway speeds. We were young and dumb. But the Horizon had these channels just above the windows. These channels were ostensibly little rain gutters - but we knew better. They worked perfectly to hold and fire bottle rockets - especially right up the ass of a shiny new 1991 Plymouth Sundance.

After our triumphant bottlerocket exchange we headed for home. Eric lived 2 houses down from me and he pulled up infront of his house. Regan pulled the Horizon up infront of my house. We knew we had scored some devastating Worm hits against the SunDance and wanted to witness the carnage before Eric and his crew had time to peel them off. As Regan slowed the car - I opened the door (driver's side rear). I hung my legs out as the car slowed (I looked like a guy in a 'Nam movie - where they are sitting on the deck of a helo with their legs dangling over the skids). At this point "Allen" (name changed - for a reason that will be obvious later) touches my back and says "go". I would say he pushed my back - but it wasn't a push - he just set his hand there. Unfortunately, this was just enough force to start my body teetering forward. I had no way to stop my momentum except to put my "boat shoe" loafers on the ground. Once on the ground my weight was on them and I couldn't lift them back up. It was like one of those Chinsese finger puzzles - where the more you pull the more stuck you are (it really wasn't like that - I just like those).

The right rear tire made its way towards my left foot. In desparation I shifted my weight to my right side and got the foot out of the way. Now all of my weight had my right foot pinned - with no where to go. The Horizon continued its methodic death march towards my foot. Physics was fucking me in a bad way - I couldn't do anything as the tire started rolling over my foot. My foot turned from the pressure and my little toe side was forced to the ground awkwardly.

There are stories where 120 pound moms will pick up a car to save their babies. Somehow they can summon the strength when their loved ones are in trouble. Well I love my fucking feet - and I kicked into action. The tire was almost completely over my foot when I summoned the 120 pound mom inside me and yanked it free.

This entire sequence of events took about 1 second and no one was aware of it - except for me - as I felt pain shoot up my right side. I got out of the car and started hopping like a crazy man yelling, "my foot, my foot!! You ran over my foot!" Now in corny practical jokes 102 they actually teach this routine so NO ONE bought it. "Bullshit, shut up - lets go look at Eric's car"
"Look you fuckers!!" With boat shoes and no socks the skin on the right side of my foot took the brunt of the damage. I had effectively made the road a cheese grater with my foot being the cheese and the car being 2,000 psi pushing it all together. The right side of my foot was missing a bunch of skin and I was still hopping around. Finally from the light of the street lights (oh it was 1:00 in the morning) - they started to see the carnage.

It was right at this point that I realized that it didn't hurt. It didn't hurt!! Let me make something clear - if I pull off a Band Aid I almost cry - here I was missing a chunk of my foot and it didn't hurt! So we try to decide on a game plan. We'll go inside my house - get a "big bandage" and some Neosporin and cover it up. We'll see what she looks like in the morning - yes this is a solid plan. Parents *hate* to be woken up for silly shit like this. "Ok break!" It takes 20 seconds for our plan to fall down. I can't find the "big bandages" - I look all over but nothing. Shit. Okay - plan "b" - I'll try to ask my mom - but keep her in a sleepy haze - so she doesn't panic - ok cool - this will totally work.
"Mom"
"huh?"
"Um, I'm home - I'm going to bed"
"k"
"oh, mom..."
"huh?"
"where do we keep the uhh ummm 'big bandages' ?"
"wha wha WHA WHAT?!?!?! What happened? Who's hurt what's going on - I knew you shouldn't ride with those kids - what's happened???"

I have to explain this all to my mom. I am trying to convince her that I am fine and really only require a "big bandage". Well this won't do - she is convinced that I need to go to the hospital. Shit. She says how it is important and the right thing to do etc etc. So I'm like, "well let's go". She counters with, "I'm not taking you - we'll wake up your father." Fucking great.

So I ride the 45 minutes to the hospital - with my foot on the dash - listening to my dad, "explain this numb nuts manuver again. Dammit." (repeat).

I got a bunch of Xrays etc - but it turns out nothing was broken. I still needed crutches to allow the muscles to heal. Oh, I had "ripped muscles out of the side of my foot" - nice.

Anyway - of the guys in the car - "Allen" is the one I still correspond with the most. There are no hard feelings. To prove it I named my first kid after him - I mean that and to honor his military service.