Nos'Talgia Vignettes (NPC) (Open)

[Kopaka]

This thread is an open series of posts where any writer is welcome to post short, atmospheric snapshots of ideas and people they'd like to explore on this World. It could serve as a notepad or muse for longer story threads, but such inspirations should be pursued in their own threads, if they will be more than one or two posts.

There came a howling of hot tires across the Dip; a series of steep switchbacks that trailed out of Toon Town towards the haunted, crumbling depths of the Uncanny Valley. For the youths of the Imagen Nation, it wasn't sufficiently to simply risk death and dismemberment with a standard street race, no. They had to drive full speed towards a nightmare to get their kicks.

It was a suitably intense location to hold the final qualifier trials for the underground racing circuit. Unlike the perfectly legal, if not abjectly homicidal, go kart races held on the far side of the region, these street races didn't rely on zany 'items' or 'powerups' to gain an edge over the competition. In fact, hitting any of the rotating, rainbow mystery blocks that naturally hovered above various bends in the road was actually grounds for disqualification.

Tonight's downhill sprint was a matchup between the two tournament finalists, against last season's reigning champion, who had received a bye from his bracket in the previous round. Peppermint Peter, a local underdog who had just moved from the hills of Sweetzerland last summer was generally considered to be an uppity no-one, which suited the large, oversized candycane mint just fine. He'd been licked a few times in the races this season, and had stuck with it to still get to the semi-finals.

"Because that's what candy does. It sticks." he muttered to himself as he pulled up to the starting line. His vehicle of choice, a bange-up, late model Nissan GTR had been a project of his for years. As much as he was mocked for sticking with the late-model vehicle, he loved this damn car, and knew every single hum she made. Besides, it was hard to find a street racer that could accommodate his minty circumference.

Also on the starting line was a violently decorated Mazda RX-7, with hand-drawn paintings of angelic strippers -- the famous Anarchy Sisters -- flipping every other driver on the road the bird. This parental-advisory grade rig was driven by some toon-squirrel out of Beach City by the name of Chipper. Everyone knew she was an absolute asshole, but had competed with the third driver of the race as championship holder for the past five years.

And finally, there was a clean, immaculate, pure white BMW 2 Series, which was patiently waiting at the third starting position. It was easily the most expensive car in this whole league, which had caused a bit of a controversy for the past few seasons. Not because it was in an automotive weight class a few shelves above anything else the other drivers could afford, but because this Beemer fuckin' drove itself. She was an autobot named Hardshift who presided over this whole operation like royalty. After all, it was her dad who served as a police cruiser in the Beach City PD, and it was her puppydog eyes that kept the fuzz off their tail when it really counted.

But seriously though, what a bitch.

Peppermint Peter shook himself out of his wandering thoughts and sat up a bit straighter. Hard candy rubbed loudly against aftermarket leather as he adjusted his seat and revved the GTR's engine a few times. Chipper grinned over at him maliciously, with her gold-grilled buckteeth and loudly redlined her car in response. Hardshift remained quiet, idling patiently.

The gathered gaggle of sweets and toons began to grow more impatient as the three cars stared down the sharp hill that descended into barren, deeper darkness. Honks, zings and hoots of all kinds goaded the flag girl -- who just so happened to be Chipper's girlfriend -- up to the starting line. She traced a lascivious finger along the growling RX-7's door, and turned to face the eager engines. The lanky young woman, who was also a squirrel toon, raised one manicured hand into the air...then the other...

Peppermint Peter kept his hand on the shifter, completely locked in to every little squirrely flinch. Don't stare at the chest, Pete. Stare at the hands. The hands, Peter.

The hands went down, and so did his foot.

With the power train supplying torque to all four wheels of the GTR, the heavy Nissan lurched forward with nary a squeal compared to the rear-wheel drives of the BMW and Mazda, but the two other cars were much lighter and lean compared to the rally-car beast at Peter's command. And so it went, with Hardshift and Chipper taking a quick lead with Peter bringing up the rear by one length, all bombing down the thirty degree hill into the first hairpin switchback.

Peppermint Pete wasn't worried though. He knew his car, and more importantly...

He knew things about this road that the others didn't.

 

[Gizmo Gear]

Lionel Hutz was a busy man. It was only a matter of time before the next Dante's Abyss started. And he'd be there to get the waivers for Syntech to use. Getting lost in this crazy dimension was the best thing that has ever had happened to him. He's gotten more business than he ever had in Springfield. And being more successful too.

Though of course, he's still at the end of the day a fraud. He's been mostly getting by so far with luck and taking more sleazy cases helping to get criminals off scot-free. Usually through any means necessary and somehow he's been able to not be caught yet. Yet that doesn't mean he can at least try to put actual effort into it. He read through every lawbook there is in the Crossroads. Which is something he should've done sooner.

Currently taking a break and binging through a series about a lawyer called Better Call Saul he got a DVD of. It's a great watch but there is a lot less lawyering than he expected in this show. Just snacking on popcorn and drinking soda while watching. In his office no less. That is when he heard a knock on his door.

"Just a minute," he said.

He takes a couple of minutes just to clean his office putting everything behind his desk and out of view before unlocking the door. At the door is an anthropomorphic cartoon raccoon covered in bandages. He had an arm cast, a leg cast, a crutch, and was looking mighty peeved. There was a story to tell here, but for Lionel Hutz it was a possible lawsuit case. And he didn't want to let this opportunity go away.

"Right this way come on in," Hutz said.

As the raccoon slowly made his way to his seat.

"So what can do for your Mr. Raccoon," Hutz said.

"Larry Raccoon, and I'd like to file a lawsuit report to the idiot that ran me over with their go kart," Larry said.

"Oh your last name is actually Raccon I thought I was being- I mean of course I can take this case for you. Please give me more details," Hutz said.

"Well I live out in the woods because I like the peace and quiet so I was going for my usual stroll and apparently someone made a road for a racetrack in the forest of all places. And before I could even realize that there was a road there I got ran over by a kart and slammed smack dab into a tree. I had to crawl my way to the Toontown hospital," Larry explained.

"Tragic, truly tragic. Well don't you worry we will hold the man and or woman responsible for injuring. Now do you know exactly who it was?" Hutz asked.

"I found out the whole thing was filmed and even managed to get find the exact moment I was ran over," the raccoon said.

Larry Raccoon pulled a phone and showed the video, slowed down to show when he was ran over by some cyan colored Shy Guy. The fact that there was video proof of this happening means that this was a surefire win.

"Larry Raccoon I promise that you we will find this exact specific individual and sue them for liability. Normally I have retainment of $1000, but since I am one hundred percent certain of you winning this case I will work based on contingency. Just hand me a portion of about, oh I dunno %50 of the earnings from the lawsuit, and I'll handle your case," Hutz explained.

"As long as I can still pay off the rest of my medical bills you got yourself a deal," Larry said.

As the two shook hands Larry left and then Hutz got out a champagne bottle and started to stroke it lovingly.

"Guess whose going to have a victory drink soon. What, now? No no not yet I promised to save you for very special occassions. I love you too," Hutz said.

After giving his special champagne bottle a kiss he puts it back before going to do what he was doing earlier.