[Santo - The Beach]
[master post]
You have to walk down a ramp to get to the sand. The ramp stretches over sand dunes, with sea oats dotting them, blowing in the near-constant breeze. On the same level as the ramp: a boardwalk, dotted with places to get sketchy-looking fried food, to try your luck at a number of games of chance, to watch performers, to ride roller coasters of the future!!!!
When you walk down the ramp, it's all white sand and blue water. Down about half a mile is a pier that juts out several hundred feet.
It's a nice beach. Not too crowded.
You have to walk down a ramp to get to the sand. The ramp stretches over sand dunes, with sea oats dotting them, blowing in the near-constant breeze. On the same level as the ramp: a boardwalk, dotted with places to get sketchy-looking fried food, to try your luck at a number of games of chance, to watch performers, to ride roller coasters of the future!!!!
When you walk down the ramp, it's all white sand and blue water. Down about half a mile is a pier that juts out several hundred feet.
It's a nice beach. Not too crowded.
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All right then.
There's another car coming up behind him; he swerves at the last second to let the other zip past him, then accelerates.
He's got one eye on Mal's car.
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Good. Competition is good for him. Man needs a game or three.
"[Too slow, Doctor Man!]"
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The track's circular, and they've pulled rather far ahead of the rest of the pack, so if their lead keeps increasing ...
A tight little smile touches the corner of Simon's mouth, and he pulls in behind Mal.
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Very shortly now.
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"Don't make me jack down your controls!" the operators screams, but Mal makes no motion to slow down until he's in the thick of the five others who are consistently trying to crash into each other without any sort of chase.
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-- and hits Mal's car amidships.
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Even with his exclamation, he's laughing. Good boy.
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"TOO BAD I DON'T HAVE A CAPTURE!" Mal shouts to Simon.
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Well.
His finger, anyhow.
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Simon's car jinks sideways and pulls back sharply until it's behind Mal's again, and then picks up speed.
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Mal stops dead, and braces for impact.
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Meaning, of course, Mal seems to only be able to turn right.
"[Piece of shit!]"
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"Would it help if you got out and pushed?"
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Finally, there's regained driving controls, and Mal starts trying to catch up to Simon.
It's difficult, but he might get there.
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Yellow fluorescent lights come on in the track -- one minute left.
No ruttin' way.
Mal accelerates, gearing up for one last side-swiping run.
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A small swerve in Mal's direction, not close enough to hit him; a feint.
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Loudly, and to the dismay of the other drivers, right in the middle of the track.
"Ha!"
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-- then reverses and slams rear first into the front of Mal's car.
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"Alright folks, we're done for the night," the operator calls.
Groans resound, but Mal's laughing too hard to hear them.
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In a dignified and restrained manner.
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