Law And Order - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Road Wrath ❯ One-Shot
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Disclaimer: All rights belong to Wolf Films and Hasbro.
Author's Note: It is a somewhat companion piece with my previous “Matrix” parody. I was partially inspired by Kevin Smith's “The Flying Car” short and the “Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen” trailer. I haven't seen either live-action “Transformers” movie, nor do I have plans to. It's just a light experiment in self-referential humor, anyway, so I'm not as concerned if I'm off the mark.
Nota bene 1: See my profile regarding any proofreading issues. I'll try to do as many as possible, until I have a long-term, non-malfunctioning computer and re-edit any errors accordingly.
Nota bene 2: The story was written prior to Megan Fox's “Megatron-crush-Middle-America” comments. I may address the matter in a possible sequel, as I'm sure Abbie would have a few words about that.
Note bene 3: My movie facts were strictly based on Wikipedia and the assorted knowledge of my friends, so feel free to enlighten me on any such errors.
Timeline: Season 19.
A professionally dressed older man and younger woman were in a silver Jeep Grand Cherokee. It was motionless in a car-packed, New York City street.
“It serves me right for taking the wrong turn in Albuquerque.” She slouched on the driver's seat.
He eyeballed the immobilized vehicles outside his passenger window. “I don't think quoting Bugs Bunny is going to help the situation.”
“It couldn't hurt, either.”
“If you want to cheer me up, Daffy Duck works wonders.”
“Are you being facetious, again?”
“Not this time.”
She rubbed her left temple. “I'm waiting for you to say, `I told you so.'”
“Why would I? It's not your fault the parkway is jammed.”
“Maybe, but I wouldn't blame you if you want to go and find a cab. Your office is probably worried about you by now.”
He did a headshake. “No, not if you went out of your way to pick me up. Besides, my A.D.A.s are smart enough to function for a few hours without me. I'm here until bodily functions dictate otherwise.”
She beamed faintly. “Gross, but thanks, Jack. I suppose we could pass the time with some small talk.”
“It's fine by me, except I'm quite poor at small talk.” He fingered his monogrammed, gold ring.
“We talk about work enough, so let's discuss something totally pointless, for a change.”
“Well, it's almost 2010, so how come we don't have any flying cars, yet?” She pointed at the congested scene ahead. “Remember the cities on the moon and the Jetsons' style of high rises during the 1960's? You must have felt ripped off, at my age.”
“Abbie, I had enough trouble in keeping myself grounded, back then. The prospect of a flying car has never been an actual factor in my life plans.”
“C'mon, you can't tell me that you didn't think about it, at least once.” She tilted her head, her long, black hair cascading downward.
He performed a steeple gesture. “If you count the one time I took a header with my first bike, then, yes. Look, maybe it's possible that flying bikes will happen before I die, but who knows? It's more important to live in the present.”
“Agreed, but it would give you an extra incentive to live.”
“I can think of better ones than a flying car.”
He angled away. “I'm pleading the fifth, Counselor.”
Her tongue protruded a tad. “No fair, Jack.”
“I thought we were discussing about pointless things. I'm sorry, but I'm not ready for philosophical depth on a Monday morning.” He massaged his eyelids.
She straightened her position. “Fine, I'll switch to something basic, like if you've seen any movies, recently.”
“New or old?”
Jack inhaled sharply. “Rebecca likes the new `Transformers' movie on DVD.”
“Take it from me — once a tomboy, always a tomboy. I knew she had it in her.”
“I tried watching it with her, but it made very little sense to me. I love her, which is why I sat through it.
Her fingertips were on her lips. “I can't picture you watching that movie — you and giant robots? You should have done the 1986 version, as it was a better movie, anyway.”
“We saw it together when she was a kid; at least, it made enough sense. It's still a stupid fad, twenty-some years later.” He lowered his bushy eyebrows.
“You do realize that you're walking into an obvious `Beatles' joke, right?”
“I won't do it, as it's way too easy. So, did she ever scream, ``til all are one'? Or, did she cry whenever Optimus Prime was killed?” She leaned toward him.
He pulled backward. “Abbie, don't make me regret this.”
“I'll back off. Was there anything about the new movie that you liked?”
“There was one thing, but I'm rather ashamed to admit it.”
“What is it? Tell me.” She clasped his shoulder gently.
“I liked Megan Fox's character and her attractiveness. Go ahead with the `dirty old man' jokes, as I honestly don't blame you.” He gazed upward at the sunroof.
“Hey, she was attractive. It's clear to anyone with a pulse that she was cast for sex appeal. You're a man, so would I condemn you for having a male reaction?”
“Call it a fear of politically correct backlash. Even so, I feel so shallow.”
“Don't feel that way — I respect you too much to mock you like that. If it was anyone else, I probably would consider it.” She veered off.
His eyes were fixed on Abbie's angular face. “I appreciate that. In the past, I would have been accused as being sexist.”
“At least, you had honest motivation, as opposed to me. I had to pretend to like the story, since I couldn't ogle the Sam kid.”
“For being Indiana Jones' kid, you'd think he'd be more handsome. Rebecca said he was too `awkward-looking.'”
She waved her hand. ”Oh, give him a few years. The Transformers brand is not exactly the place for sex appeal, unless you're turned on by robots.”
“Pass. Should I be ambitious enough for the sequel, I hear Fox will be wearing cut-offs.” He blinked rapidly. “I can't believe I just admitted that.”
She giggled. “Because you trust me, Jack.”
“It's so difficult to yell at you, sometimes.”
“I do what I can.”
He cleared his throat. “Do you think Fox enjoys it? Being in cut-offs and appearing as a sex object?”
“It's basically honest work. It's whenever women like her decide to do porn, instead, and shake their saline bags, I become irritated.” Her nostrils flared.
“It goes without saying. If you need a pleasant tangent to distract you, have you ever noticed on how Detective Bernard is a spitting image to the Glen Whitmann character?”
Her pupils widened. “Huh. That's unsettling, isn't it? Maybe he's working undercover — a cop by day and a hacker by night.”
Jack stroked his chin. “We've both encountered seemingly multiple versions of the same defendants, attorneys and judges. Perhaps, you're not off the mark, Abbie.”
“That, or God loves the evil twin concept a bit too much.”
“Never rule anything out. What about you — did you enjoy the movie, at all?”
“Admittedly, it was nice to see them in the live-action format. I didn't like how one of the popular villains, Soundwave, was omitted, but he'll be in the sequel. Sorry if I'm getting nerdy, here.” Her palms were upturned.
“It's fine, as it's a side of you I don't see often enough. And, yes, Rebecca had me watch a couple of episodes in the 80's, so I know whom you're talking about.”
Abbie grinned. “What can I say — I'm a sucker for that synthesized voice.”
He cocked his skull. “Now I've heard everything.”
“Do you think such things could ever exist? The Transformers, I mean.”
“If it was true, it would have already happened. It isn't like the truck beside us could be a Transformer.” He motioned toward the red eighteen-wheeler truck alongside them. “If it was, I'd eat my hat.”
The transport suddenly clicked and fidgeted, while the driver dematerialized into pure energy. It arose, arms and legs bursting outward. A blue crown-style cranium emerged from the empty chassis. A massive, humanoid shaped robot was standing forth.
“Autobots, roll out!” it boomed in a serrated, masculine voice. It was skipping gingerly amidst the fleeing drivers and abandoned automobiles.
Abbie grabbed a brown fedora on the backseat and handed it to Jack. “Cooked or raw?”
His jaw plunged. “I don't know what to say.”
“You're still eating the hat, assuming, of course, we survive this.”
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