tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54345221570632696372024-03-13T11:56:18.598-07:00Burnt Bar and GrillThis is my main hub of all my content! Please feel free to browse posts or to click my links!Fire Cookinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16405959191355317923noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5434522157063269637.post-44645838877336761222021-03-31T19:41:00.003-07:002021-03-31T19:46:50.592-07:00Trapped [commisioned writting]<p><br /><br /> <br /><br />He reached up, his hand shaking and fingers twitching as he reached.<br /><br /> He put his other arm down on the arm of the chair.<br /><br />Suddenly he hissed, a cry in pain leaving his lips. He shot up, squalling again when he put weight on his feet.<br /><br />His hand reached up onto the counter in front of him, knocking over what he reached for, scattering the glass’ contents onto him and splitting it into shards.<br /><br />He hit the floor, his head bumping against the front bar of the wheelchair seat on the way down, the wheelchair rolling away.<br /><br />“JACKIE!”<br /><br />Jack looked over at the man scrambling over to him.<br /><br />“Al you-”<br /><br />“Jack what happened?” Alec was at Jack's side, picking up the man's hand with a small spot of blood starting to drip.<br /><br />Jack looked away from Alec, his eyes starting to brim up with tears. “Nothing.” He snapped his hand away from Alec.<br /><br />“Jack what’s wrong.” Alec tried to put a hand on Jack’s shoulder, but the other rolled it sharply.<br /><br />“Nothing,” Jack huffed again. He reached back for his wheelchair, but as soon as he got a grip it rolled again.<br /><br />“Jack….” Alec mumbled.<br /><br />“Look, I’m fine!” Jack yelled.<br /><br />Alec sighed. “Sorry.” He started to get up.<br /><br />Jack looked away, a look of guilt bubbling on his face. He looked over, pain and grief lining his face, just in time to see Alec reach for him. He was hefted up in a bridal carry.<br /><br />“Put me down before you drop me, Alec Harmandez-Walton!” Jack yelled.<br /><br />Alec made a few pants as he carried Jack out of the kitchen, and too a bathroom. He set Jack down on the edge of the sink with an audible and visible struggle.</p><p>“You need that glass taken out of your hand.” Alec said, after panting a bit. He started pulling out supplies.</p><p>Jack looked at the floor.<br /><br />He knew he was stuck here. He felt his eyes misting up. “I’m so sorry you had to carry me.” Jack said weakly.<br /><br />“I could have put you back in the chair.” Alec said as he set some band-aids and antiseptic on the counter next to Jack. “I carried you because I wanted you to be comfortable. I know you don’t like the chair.”<br /><br />Jack shifted a bit. “I shouldn’t have been so stupid.” Jack huffed.<br /><br />“Hey, hey.” Alec took Jack’s bleeding hand in his own. “It’s okay, dear. You need some help, that’s okay.”<br /><br />“No it’s not!” Jack snapped and looked away from Alec. He crossed his arms and flinched from dueling pains. His face went red as he set both his arms limp on his lap. “I’m sorry that you have to take care of me.”<br /><br />Alec made a gasp. “I want to, Jack.” He put his hands on Jack’s knee’s. “I want to help you, and take care of you. Because I love you!” <br /> </p><p>“But I keep making stupid mistakes!” Jack put his bleeding hand to his face, wiping away tears. “I’m useless, I’m stupid I’m-”<br /><br />“Beautiful, and smart, and just in need of a little help!” Alec took Jack's hand, pulling it down. “Now I won’t stop yammering on how amazing you are until you stop.”<br /><br />“Gosh, that could be forever.” Jack said, a bit of a laugh coming through.<br /><br />“Just let me help you be comfortable, and feel better.” Alec said softly. “And I won’t keep talking about how much you're an amazing smart and perceptive person, and how you have a great sense of humor and are really special and pleasant company. And how you are a great conversationalist and-”<br /><br />“Okay, okay.” Jack laughed. “I get it you talk a lot.”<br /><br />“You’re a great muse for talking.” Alec smiled at Jack dreamily.<br /><br />Jack softened a bit more. “Okay, I guess I’ll let you help with my hand.” Jack finally caved.<br /><br />Alec smiled. “I know just what to prescribe!” Alec kissed the cut on Jack's hand. He hissed and shot up.<br /><br />“Fuck!”<br /><br />“Dumb ass there's glass in my hand!” Jack yelled.<br /><br />Alec hissed as blood started dripping from his lips. He seethed a second before suddenly laughing. Jack softened backup a bit laughing as well.<br /><br />“I guess I’ll have to help patch your lips when you’re done with my hand.” Jack sighed.<br /><br />“What are you going to do with just one hand?” Alec chuckled.<br /><br />“This.” Jack leaned down and grabbed Alec’s shit, kissing him on the lips softly. He put Alec down, then shook his hand. “Jesus Christ, yeouch.”\</p><p><br />“You got blood on my broken bottle shirt!” Alec huffed.<br /><br />“You’re dripping blood on it!” <br /><br />“It’s the principle of the matter!”<br /><br />“Can we get the glass out of my hand?”<br /><br />“Shit, fuck! Yeah!” Alec started digging through his supplies.</p>Fire Cookinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16405959191355317923noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5434522157063269637.post-82121582927566189592020-08-20T09:16:00.004-07:002020-08-20T09:18:25.159-07:00Boxman kids- humanized enough<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UCiBnrfLxE4/Xz6hUT4KeGI/AAAAAAAAD-I/7MYGUKI7Vp8fN65snWQEeTIbXRJu2QBXACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/family%2Bselfie%2B2.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="958" data-original-width="1600" height="306" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UCiBnrfLxE4/Xz6hUT4KeGI/AAAAAAAAD-I/7MYGUKI7Vp8fN65snWQEeTIbXRJu2QBXACLcBGAsYHQ/w512-h306/family%2Bselfie%2B2.png" width="512" /></a></div><p></p>Fire Cookinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16405959191355317923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5434522157063269637.post-83847414077843736582019-08-08T23:37:00.000-07:002019-08-08T23:37:05.766-07:00Cacen mêl <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/20172319"><strong>Cacen mêl</strong></a> (2058 words) by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Cooking"><strong>Fire_Cooking</strong></a><br />Chapters: 1/1<br />Fandom: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Fireman%20Sam%20(Cartoon)">Fireman Sam (Cartoon)</a><br />Rating: Teen And Up Audiences<br />Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply<br />Characters: Elvis Cridlington, Fireman Sam (charater), Station officer Steele, basil steele, samuel peyton jones, Fireman Sam - Character<br />Additional Tags: Fluff, Hand injury, Pain, Burns, spilt tea, gossiping, First Aid, Band-Aids, Bandage, Past Relationship(s), Eating, Cake, Welsh Character, welsh language used, but not alot just a line or two<br />Summary: <p>Steele is having a quiet night in reading up on how to help himself dealing with the new recruit at the station. Thats when the new recruit shows up at the door with cake, burns, and an escort.</p>Fire Cookinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16405959191355317923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5434522157063269637.post-24669893053387790822019-08-05T14:26:00.005-07:002019-08-05T14:27:05.358-07:00Oh look it's Fireman Sam again<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span id="goog_1217441014"></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eyYRycEmi8Q/XUiej-OST8I/AAAAAAAADn8/ExaOpFfGJlE0YRlHeo-vBufFwxfa4Vm1gCLcBGAs/s1600/sammy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eyYRycEmi8Q/XUiej-OST8I/AAAAAAAADn8/ExaOpFfGJlE0YRlHeo-vBufFwxfa4Vm1gCLcBGAs/s400/sammy.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fireman Sam again, by me<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
A Fireman Sam, as I do my dudes </div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span id="goog_1217441015"></span>Fire Cookinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16405959191355317923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5434522157063269637.post-71282273104742819372019-07-20T01:53:00.002-07:002019-07-20T01:53:33.071-07:00Love and Death<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
Humanization Fanfiction based on The Love Bug [1997]</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
I own zero rights to any names or characters used</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
Enjoy and review! </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
~~~~</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
He didn't know what had
happened. But everything felt cold.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The numb awareness that
his body was in a bad place. He didn't know where he was, he couldn't
get up, or move, or see, or even breath on his own.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Everything was numb.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
He kept replaying the
memory.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
~~~~</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Herbie walked down the
street, the dark was slightly bitter as the wind blew.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Hank had made his
point, he wasn't welcome. It wasn't something he was unfamiliar with,
but it was something that made him hurt every time.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The sound of tires
slowly turning the pavement whispered in his ears. Light high frame
with a four stroke engine, the hum of the engine sounded dead and
uncorroborated. He knew it.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
He turned to see the
black beetle that he had left for his own pearl coated beauty.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Late night, huh?”
Rupert steeped out of the door. Herbie was familiar with the man, he
didn't hate him, he was blinded by a pure light and enjoyed his job.
Herbie wondered why the man has stepped out of the passengers seat
but didn't worry much.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
'just out for a walk'
Herbie signed over, Rupert smiled, he reached into the car and stood
back up.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“It's a nice night
for a short walk.” Rupert smiled.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Herbie gave his a odd
look, Rupert smirked and slammed the door. He gripped the baseball
bat in his gloved hands. Herbie gulped.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“End of the line,
little friend.” Rupert said with a bitter and sticky happiness.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Herbie felt his blood
go cold, he turned and ran but ran into the brick wall he had been
walking to to sit down next too. He knew that his day was going from
bad to worse. He turned and looked at the man approaching slowly.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Herbie noticed someone
shunt themselves out of the driver window the way any veteran racer
would. Standing almost as tall as the mirror, the thin body started
to coyly nudge themselves towards the front of the car. Rupert turned
as he saw Herbie look behind him.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Horace, get back in
the car!” Rupert called as he saw the form gripping the fender of
the black beetle.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The form, in defiance,
stood taller and started to walk towards the pair. Rupert turned and
started to scold Horace who was now walking faster. Herbie looked for
an escape route. He rushed to trash cans near by and tried to jump
over the cans. Rupert turned and cursed at himself as Herbie started
to run.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Herbie felt a small
body slam into him and throw him into the ground, he yelled out as
his head hit the concrete.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Horace- wait!”
Rupert yelled, the man started to run over to stop Horace before
stopping.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Herbie felt himself
hitting the concrete over and over, his head splitting with screaming
pain but his body going numb-er with every bash into the pavement.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
~~~~</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Herbie didn't know why
it had happened. But everything felt cold.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
He felt a warm voice in
his ears, but couldn't respond.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“It's worse than you
think, sir.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Herbie wanted to shift
towards the sounds but couldn't.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Don't worry, I've
seen pretty bad.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Herbie felt something
flutter in his chest, he felt better as the voices grew closer.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
A noise from the man
Herbie knew best made his heart sink, it was a quiet sound that sunk
into his skin.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“My little boy....”
Herbie felt the second voice, and felt something warm and sweet
somehwere on his body, like his hand was being held or his hair being
swept out of his eyes, he knew this feeling and the voice just as
well.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“I'm sorry but if
your his father, then who is this?”
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“He helped me raise
him, not so many years ago.”
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Well, uh,” Herbie
knew Hank wasn't a people person, “Nice job, he is amazing, or,
was.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“He will be again.”
Herbie felt another warm feeling, this time he knew what it was. He
felt his mind smile as a firm fatherly grip met his shoulder.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“That would be an
amazing trick.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“He's pretty far
gone, Mr Douglas.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“All he needs is love
and care. When we get him home and snuggled up with a soft blanket
and some nice food he will be better.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Yeah, well that's
fine but all we have is Chucks shitty insurance plan, sorry Chuck.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Herbie felt a sting,
not from the bitter words of the new friend, but from the shake he
could feel now, coming from one of his hands as it was tightly
griped.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“But what are we even
talking about here, he should really stay here for now.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Herbie felt the hand
leave his shoulder.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“We're going to help
him.”</div>
Fire Cookinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16405959191355317923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5434522157063269637.post-35697252099021233592019-03-10T20:46:00.001-07:002019-03-10T20:46:14.717-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cGDuVkVzD08/XIXZasqpGVI/AAAAAAAADbM/G_7OjAbjRjwcdDCQUJbqRmeTao7w-jlnwCLcBGAs/s1600/sam-%2Ba%2Bicon.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1475" data-original-width="864" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cGDuVkVzD08/XIXZasqpGVI/AAAAAAAADbM/G_7OjAbjRjwcdDCQUJbqRmeTao7w-jlnwCLcBGAs/s640/sam-%2Ba%2Bicon.png" width="374" /></a></div>
I drew everyone favourite gay icon, Fireman Sam<br /><br />Fire Cookinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16405959191355317923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5434522157063269637.post-72081064764581931832019-03-08T15:20:00.000-08:002019-03-08T15:20:53.178-08:00Youtube<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rH4dBYQfu10/XIL3jYZHc8I/AAAAAAAADas/N9lYeBfIU4YiiUW8qViUxp8Rd2GjFYZNACLcBGAs/s1600/youtube.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="drawing of a standard youtube page from 2007, title of the main video is 'My Brother makes me do a speed paint', the video shows a charater with pink and blue hair painting a canvas" border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rH4dBYQfu10/XIL3jYZHc8I/AAAAAAAADas/N9lYeBfIU4YiiUW8qViUxp8Rd2GjFYZNACLcBGAs/s400/youtube.png" title="Youtube" width="400" /></a></div>
A character piece on Marklin!<br />
<br />
You could have had early assess to this piece and more if you where subscribed to my <a href="https://www.patreon.com/firecooking" target="_blank">Patreon</a>Fire Cookinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16405959191355317923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5434522157063269637.post-22500544502573581922019-02-17T13:35:00.002-08:002019-03-08T15:37:58.433-08:00Helping hands<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
Fanfiction based on Knight Rider [1983]</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
I own zero rights to any names or characters used</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
Enjoy and review! </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
~~~~</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“Micheal if you
had wanted something more dexterous as a partner, you should have
waken up from your coma during my pre manufacturing meetings.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“OK wise guy, I
would have just liked better help from something that could fit in
the mine shaft.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“Well I wasn't the
one who was playing wild cards and jokers with the- Incoming. Call
from Devon.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
Michael sighed and
rolled his eyes, he shifted in his seat of of his sore leg. “Answer
it.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“You decided to
skip town after collapsing their entire mine I see.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“Hello to you
too.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“Please, get back
to FLAG, we need to discuss this.” The screen went blank.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“Goodbye!”
Michael twittered.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“Your farewell was
not received, transmission was cut-”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“I know.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
~~~~</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
KITT sat in his
garage bay, reading and running some equations. But no matter how
much RAM he devoted to these tasks, a little quip from earlier took
up most of his processors.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
'If you where a real
partner, I wouldn't have broken my thigh.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
Now Michael did
apologize, in his own way of course, but that didn't stop the words
from writing into KITT's data banks. Their was no denying that in all
senses put physical KITT was an attentive and responsible sidekick to
Michael. But he really could have saved Micheals, and noted to
Michael, bruised thigh muscle.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
KITT busied himself
on the impossible, grow legs and become a human, however impractical.
Flicking through his databanks he found a article, MIT and fresh off
of a grad student. Robotics where not necessarily F.L.A.G.'s strong
suit but maybe he could research into a sort of drone to catch
Michael if he falls.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
Yes he'd install a
golden pillow just for that.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
~~~~</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“Well KITT I guess
it's a night on our own.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
Michael pulled off
to the side of the vast empty back road, it was dark, but the wind
had a warm edge. No cars would pass, no houses for miles, it was
camping at it's finest if you had a tent.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“Before I recline
the seat may I suggest-”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“No I don't have
to take a piss KITT.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“You know that I
would never direct you to unload a bladder at only 45% capacity. I
was-”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“Stop that you
creep.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“It is only my
job, Michael.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
Michael huffed and
went to turn off KITTS engine, the vehicle refused.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“Michael I wish to
show you something.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
The man in the
driver seat put his head on the steering wheel.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“KITT you already
explained that if we stop at the next motel it would warn the locals
that a stranger is in town and that if we drive all night we would be
there way to early even if we went slow, so what could you possibly
want to show me.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“Well if your
going to be rude about it-”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“KITT.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“Fine, get out.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
KITT swung his door
open. Michael sighed and stepped out.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“Please make your
way to my rear.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“You got a bumper
sticker, didn't you, young man. Now what did me and Bonnie say about
that nonsense, not until you reach alpha.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“Bumper stickers
are illogical, this however, is certainly bound to actually come in
handy.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
Just as Michael was
about to retort, the trunk of the pontiac popped open.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“Oh no, KITT what
have you done.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“And here I
thought you would have been proud of me for listening to you.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“KITT it's so-”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“I might have
gotten carried away with the details. Here let me give you a
demonstration.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
With a screaming
dial up noise, KITT the car when quiet. He stepped out of his own
trunk.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“Quite a different
angle to see you at Michael, have you put on weight?”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
Michael Knight was
speechless for the first time since he could move his jaw.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“KITT, you- you-”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“Before you say
anything I thought that I would mention that I based several key
components of my new look on someone of whom I admired, unfortunately
you had to steal some of them off of the face of Wilton Knight
first.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“Before I say
anything.”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
Micheal looked at
KITT, he awkwardly but gently a put a hand on KITT's shoulder.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“Does Bonnie or
Devon know about-” He gestured KITT up and down “This?”</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.36cm;">
“Not a clue.”</div>
Fire Cookinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16405959191355317923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5434522157063269637.post-79909330112440115312019-02-07T11:05:00.000-08:002019-03-08T15:38:22.582-08:00A Quiet Drive<br />
<br />
A commission for <a href="https://twitter.com/MerciResolution">@MerciResolution</a><br />
<br />
Enjoy<br />
<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br /><br />
~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The Trans Am was quite, enjoying some down time between missions. But something about this town by the bay, where the mission left KITT and Michael until the next, was on his processors. And it wouldn't dump no matter how hard he tried. <br />
<br />
Rolling off, he decided a small midnight drive would help clear his processors.<br />
<br />
The cool concrete of the steep roads felt nice to cruise. Not having an objective felt relaxing, he could go wherever he wanted. The time of night meant no one would notice the lack of driver. The quiet empty streets where serine and comfortable.<br />
<br />
He felt like he was going to the ends of town, but noticed himself pass the same firehouse over and over.<br />
<br />
It was familiar and the memories sweet. Yet Brought the thoughts he was trying to remove back to his memory.<br />
<br />
The mission that day had been long. The hot shot racer had done nothing but be oblivious and in the way, this attitude almost annoyed the AI. But since that mission the hot shot had stayed in KITT’s mind. Once he had searched and found this address as their home, and once was all it took to memorize the location. Finally his wheels felt a little tired, and without the want to go back across town he crept to the firehouse. At least he knew someone one in town, he felt less conspicuous here than anywhere else, at least he knew someone.<br />
<br />
Getting closer he saw them, smooth curves and shining white. The racer was just as he had remembered, almost better in person.<br />
<br />
Suddenly, the street filled with the sound of beeping and revving.<br />
<br />
The little white beetle sprung to life at his first glimpse of KITT. The beeping persisted as the beetle rolled closer to KITT and nearly touched his bumper to the Trans Am’s.<br />
<br />
“Hello, Herbie.” KITT felt his RAM fill and his CPU start to grow hot as the little car came closer. Herbie beeped a long and almost dreamy note, happy to see the spy car he had come to know near that race last year. “You look freshly waxed, you must have a race soon, I will leave you to rest up for it.”<br />
<br />
KITT went to back up but the little car rolled forward, the two cars bumpers meeting with a small ding.<br />
<br />
KITT felt his CPU almost melt from the sudden heat, and his RAM freeze.<br />
<br />
Bumpers still touching, Herbie beeped and backed up. Enticing the Trans Am to spend the night on the quiet little curb. KITT could only follow the race car to the curb. Settling down for a sweet quiet night with the little car who had been on his mind.Fire Cookinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16405959191355317923noreply@blogger.com0