Phoning It In
Some people have a knack for finding strange things. Strange things always seem to find Zane Legends.
"Why did we stop? Is something blocking the road? What's going on out there?!"
Zane sighed, and heroically resisted the urge to just bang his head on the steering wheel. Maybe the horn would drown out the sound of...
"Why aren't you answering? Are you dead?? Oh god, is it-"
"It's fine, Mr. Decader." Zane reached over and flipped the switch that lowered the divider between driver and paranoid passenger. "Only some engine trouble. I'll just get out and ch-"
"Engine trouble?! They must have tampered with the vehicle! It's rigged to explode any second now! BAIL OUT!!"
Zane couldn't help but find the sight of the short, fat man in a bowler hat leaping out of the car and bolting across the road into a field to be more exasperating than entertaining. Sure, it'd probably be pretty slapstick to anyone just tuning in, he mused, exiting the vehicle in a more sane manner. But after six hours of similar, screeching antics he was finding it hard to see the humour in it all.
He walked around to the front of the car and popped the hood, just for show really. He then reached into his pocket for his phone, trying very hard to maintain an unaffected air. Mr. Decader was a short distance away, peering at him from behind the scarecrow he was attempting to use as a shield.
Zane thumbed in a number, and put the device to his ear. It rang once, then disconnected. He looked back at the screen, and sighed. No signal. By now Mr. Decader had cautiously ventured over to see what the problem was, though he still looked ready to sprint at any second. Zane tried to give a reassuring smile, knowing it wouldn't help.
"Unfortunately I'm not a mechanic, and there's no signal out here. We passed a farm a few miles back, so how about you wait in the car and I'll-SAUSAGES!"
The stout man leapt at Zane, grabbing him about the collar.
"DON'TLEAVEMEALONEOUTHERE!!!" He screeched, his face contorted in terror.
"Okay! Okay, fine!! It's fine, Mr. Decader, please," Zane pushed him gently away. "I won't leave you alone. I meant WE can walk back and see if they'll let us use their phone, okay?" Mr. Decader was practically gibbering, but apparently the prospect of interacting with potentially malicious strangers wasn't quite as harrowing as being left alone in a field with a potentially explosive sedan, and he conceded to come along.
Zane set off, his charge practically clinging to his heels. He tried to remember why he even took this job in the first place. Mr. Decader was some small-town politician with a big-city mindset, and had apparently run afoul of some of his more 'traditionally' minded constituents. He didn't believe it initially, that what prompted Mr. Decader to acquire his services was a community rally to run the political leader out on a rail (complete with the townsfolk bringing actual rails); but after spending just a few hours with the man he was more than half-tempted to join them.