User blog:High Prince Imrahil/The Wiki Family Road Trip - Day 2

The adventure continues! If you haven't already, you need to start this series with Part 1

By the way, in case you haven't noticed, when Imrahil makes a phone call, the voice on the phone is always ''italicized. ''Don't confuse it with Morgoth's narrations, which are also italicized. I think you'll be able to tell the difference though :P

"Niiiiiiiice and easy..."

"C'mon, Imrahil, hurry it up!"

Patrick, Aramir and Dark were just behind him in line for the waffle machine. The waffle machine was kind of the highlight of any hotel breakfast.

Delicious, buttery, syrupy goodness. The hotel had a breakfast buffet in the lobby. A cynic might say that was the reason Imrahil booked the hotel in the first pace. Imrahil would whole-heartedly agree with that cynic. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was pretty good food in a very nice dining area, such as one might find at an expensive restaurant.

The brothers in Imrahil's suite were the first ones to get up, so they were the first ones to go down and eat breakfast. Except for Itallie, who was  quietly reading at a table in the corner, and had apparently been up for quite some time.

Currently, Imrahil was monopolizing the waffle machine.

"Seriously, Im', we're hungry!"

"Shhhhh! You're messing up my concentration! It's all about pouring the batter niiiiiice and sloooow...."

"A turtle couldn't go any slower!" exclaimed Aramir

"A turtle with it's leg in a cast" offered Pat

"That's dead" finished Dark.

Finally, Imrahil finished pouring the batter, and closed the lid to the machine.

"Now in just a few short minutes, you guys can make your waffles!"

"Imrahil, if we make it out of this road trip alive, I will personally kill you."

"Thanks, Pat!" replied Imrahil brightly, "hey look, here comes Morgoth and Tyb! Wait, where's Argy? Tyberious, you didn't sacrifice Argali, did you?!"

"Nah." he said in his usual dark monotone, "Are you kidding? Sacrifices have to be pure. Can you imagine Argy?"

"Uh... admittedly no. Where is he?"

"I liked the look of this guy. He asked all the right questions. He kind of reminded me of myself, when I was a naive teenager"

"Morgoth, you are a naive teenager. Now where's Argali?"

"The kid was obviously distraught. There was a pleading in his eyes, a begging. I knew I had to take this case, if only for him. I had to find this kid."

"What are you talking about?!"

"I began my search towards the breakfast bar..."

"Morgoth, WHERE IS ARGALI??"

Morgoth looked up at Imrahil, as if snapping out of a trance.

"Oh, Argali? He's still in the bathroom."

"Thank you!" exclaimed Imrahil in exasperation

Morgoth pulled his fedora back over his head.

"I walked towards the breakfast bar. I knew I had to start my questioning somewhere. Why not with the food? It looked suspicious enough..."

Imrahil shook his head and sat down. Suddenly he smelled something burning. He had left his waffles in the machine too long.

--

The first few hours of that day were peaceful and quiet. Everyone just continued their sleep in the bus while Imrahil quietly drove on. By the time the first few rays of sunlight glimmered over the horizon, they were in South Dakota. Everyone awoke with wonder to their new surroundings, a far cry from the golden cornfields they were passing just a few hours previous. Now they were surrounded by beautiful rocky hills and gullies, framed by  distant mountains.

"Welcome to The Badlands." said Imrahil with a grin.

---

Well, as it turned out, the badlands got surprisingly boring surprisingly quick. Soon Pat, Aramir and Dark were back to Poker, Ed was back to sarcasm, Tyberious was back to incantations, and Imrahil was back to arguing with Chaz about the map. And those conversations began springing up, the kinds that only happen when you're totally, truly, bored.

"So..." said Edacnik, staring at the ceiling and talking to nobody in particular. "If you could have any one wish instantly granted, what would it be?"

"Uh, for this road trip to be over?" replied Patrick.

"A half-decent map!" exclaimed Chaz.

"A better car!" stated Berry and Shadow in unison.

"A girlfriend" said Imrahil wryly.

"A royal flush instead of these crappy hands I keep getting!" intoned Dark, looking down at his hand of cards.

"Earplugs" mumbled Elestan, still trying to sleep.

"The blood of a werewolf taken at a full-moon on the 11th of October during a purification ritual."

Everyone immediately swung their heads to look at Tyberious. Except for Imrahil, who eyed him through the rear-view mirror. There was a moment of thoughtful silence. Faenor spritzed Tyb with a sprayer marked "Holy Water".

"aaaaaaanyways..." said Imrahil, breaking up the silence, "we have to stop for lunch soon. I'm afraid the only thing way out here in the middle of nowhere is a truck stop just off the highway. I've been there before, it should be fairly tame."

"If you're sure...." said Chaz warily.

--

The half-broken neon sign flickered on and off.

Honest Joe's Cafe

"Uh... why are there only beat-up Ford trucks and semis outside?"

"Yeah... this place is a little shadier then the last time I was through here. Whatever, I'm sure we'll be fine!"

The rest of the siblings exchanged nervous glances but followed Imrahil's lead through the darkened door.

The place was filled with scruffy-looking truckers and farmhands. Several dirty bars meandered through the room, each with a tender around forty that looked like they smoked twelve packs a day. A few grey tables and old wooden chairs were scattered throughout. Imrahil could swear he heard the theme from the Star Wars cantina scene coming over the speakers.

"Right... well, I've got to go run to the bathroom. You guys can... you know... blend in."

Imrahil made his quick exit to the bathroom door. As long as he lives, Imrahil will never have the strength to recall what he found in that bathroom. But to this day he never enters gas station bathrooms, and he is plagued by a strange fear of mildew. PTSD aside, Imrahil exited the bathroom a moment later, only to find a Faenor being stared down by a massive grizzly bear. Or maybe it was a trucker, Imrahil couldn't quite tell.

"Take it back." growled the trucker, apparently continuing a conversation already in progress.

"I shan't. You have insulted me, and I will stand for my honor."

"I'll say it again" sneered the trucker, " You [CENSORED!] son of a [CENSORED!] [CENSORED!]..."

NOTICE: Due to the author's intention to keep this story to language suitable for those under thirty-six, the trucker's long string of profanity has been censored.

"Augh, my beautiful ears!" exclaimed Imrahil, grabbing his head violently.

At this, Faenor drew his katana from the sheath, and charged the trucker. The trucker threw a sledgehammer-sized fist at Faenor's face.

"Ouch" said Pat, with a wince.

"That's gotta hurt." echoed Elestan.

"Oh my gosh, I hope he's okay!" intoned Karos.

The poor trucker never stood a chance.

The fight reminded Imrahil vaguely of the scene in Return of the King where Legolas takes down a Mumakil. A few moments later, the trucker was lying in heap on the floor. The rest of the folks in the bar stared blankly at Faenor. Six more men in leather jackets, friends of the trucker, stood up and walked towards him in challenge. Faenor, suddenly channeling the spirit of Bruce Lee, beckoned them forward with two fingers. Imrahil put his head in his hands.

--

"Just once I'd like to go to a truck stop and not have Faenor beat up a bunch of bikers with his katana! Just once! Is this too much to ask?!"

Imrahil's voice thundered through the van, as he angrily drove down the highway.

"Relax, Imrahil. It's not like I've ever actually killed anyone..."

"There was that guy in Roanoke" offered Chaz.

"Hey, he ended up pulling through!" defended Faenor, "And besides, he was a pervert!"

"You've managed to not kill Argali all these years." Intoned Patrick with a grin.

"Hey!"

--

Imrahil had a terrible headache. A head-spitting, throbbing, wished-he-would-die headache. Or it could've been the fact that Edacnik was leading the bus in singing "A thousand bottles of beer on the wall".

"Take one down, pass it around, two hundred seventy-six bottles of beer on the wall!" (most of) the bus chorused in off-tune unison.

"Chaz, take a note." Grumbled Imrahil, "next town we hit, I need some pain meds. Or whiskey. or both."

Suddenly, Imrahil heard a noise from his pocket. A short clip of Borne on Wings of Steel was playing from his phone.

"Hey, everyone quiet!" shouted Imrahil, thankful to finally have an excuse to stop the singing, "Someone's calling!"

Everyone immediately quieted down as Imrahil brought the phone up to his ear.

"Imrahil!"

"Dad!" Exclaimed Imrahil, recognizing the voice, "how are you??"

"I'm holding up pretty well. This work conference is boring as heck, but I'll survive. Seattle is a really beautiful city, I can't wait 'till you guys all get here!"

"Neither can I, dad..." Imrahil sighed, "neither can I..."

"Okay then! Well, I only had a second before the next session started, I was just calling to check in. See you in a few days, Immy!"

"Bye, dad."

Imrahil hung up, and put his phone back into the glove box. And for a split second there was total, glorious, silence.

"Anyways, where were we with the singing?" asked Edacnik, "Bah, I can't remember. From the top, everyone! A thoooousand bottles of beer on the wall..."

Imrahil hit his head repeatedly on the steering wheel.

---

They stopped briefly at Mount Rushmore. They were in the area anyways, so they decided to swing by and take a look. Currently they stood at the edge of the park, overlooking the monument.

"Huh." Commented Imrahil, "I thought it would look different somehow in person... but it really doesn't... I think we could've basically gotten the same effect by buying a postcard from the giftshop."

"This park is overrated!" Exclaimed Patrick, "it's just four dead dudes in stone."

"Indeed." Said Faenor, "I must express my disappointment. Trump's not even on there."

"Yet!" added Imrahil, grinning as Itallie rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, this whole detour was kind of a bummer." Said Ed, "This is super lame. Can we get back to our road trip now?"

Imrahil shrugged.



The rest of the trip was long, boring, and uneventful. After around twenty years (a few hours), they finally made it to Rapid City. It was a good-sized town, not too big, not too small. They immediately headed to the hotel, enacting the same sleeping arrangements they had used the previous night. The rooms, as Imrahil said they would be, were much the same. Imrahil threw all his luggage in a pile beside the door and collapsed happily, face-first, on the couch in the living room. Suddenly, his phone began to ring. Imrahil sighed.

"Hello?" he mumbled, without even bothering to sit up.

"Imrahil! It's me, Morgul!"

"Morgul?!"

Suddenly, Imrahil was alert and awake, flinging himself into a sitting position. Morgul's company had relocated to Nebraska a few months back, and he had heard very little since, aside from the occasional letter or email.

"Yeah! Listen, Imrahil, I've got good news! My company is opening a new branch office in Columbus! I'm gonna move back home!!"

"For real?!" exclaimed Imrahil in excitement.

"As real as you and me! But wait for the best part! I'm already packed, and I've got nothing better to do, soooooo..."

"So?!"

"So I heard you guys are moving through Grand Rapids in South Dakota. I took the liberty of asking dad where you were staying and your room numbers. He was a good sport about it, and promised to keep it a surprise."

"What?!"

Suddenly, there was a knocking on the door. Exhaustion shed from Imrahil's body as he sprinted a crossed the room and flung open the door. Standing just outside was Morgul, holding a green cell phone and grinning. Imrahil immediately leapt forward and hugged him.

"My gosh, Morgul, it's been way too long since I've seen you!"

"Imrahil, it's been like two months. Tops."

"Waaaay too long."

"You always were the sentimental one." replied Morgoth with a laugh.

Dark and Aramir were soon at the door, wondering what all the noise was about.

"Oh! Hey, Morgy." said Aramir, "what are you doing here?"

"Well, I heard you guys were going on a hellish 2,500 mile car trip in a decrepit old bus, and I thought 'whoa, that sounds like my idea of a good time!'"

Aramir and Dark chuckled as they led Morgul into the room.

"This'll be awesome!" exclaimed Dark, "tell me, Morgul, do you know how to play poker?"

"I guess. Why, do you play?"

"... a little" replied Aramir and Dark with smug smiles. Imrahil rolled his eyes and turned on the TV. Morgul was smart, he'd be able to handle them. He was happy that Morgul was present, but he hadn't slept in sixteen hours, and felt the sudden need to doze off. The welcome voice of his long-lost sibling laughing and talking with Aramir and Dark relaxed him, and he was soon fast asleep.

Dear Imrahil,

I wish I could respond with a nice hand-written note, but since it wouldn't even get there until you were in Seattle, I figured I'd just send a good old fashioned email.

'My marine training is going pretty well! I mean, as well as crawling through miles of mud and barbed wire can go. By my calculations, you guys should be on the west side of South Dakota by now. The Badlands had to be pretty cool. I just wish I could be there. You know, on second thought, nevermind. I think live-ammo training is somehow STILL better then a 2500 mile cartrip with our family. Call me crazy.'

'So, making it through okay without me? I kind of doubted that you could even survive without having me around to handle the map and GPS, but I guess if you've recruited Chaz, you're in good hands. Hey, remember that one time when I first started out? When I turned the map upside-down, mistook Route 69 for Routes 96, and we instead of Grand Rapids, Michigan, we ended up in Barkley, Kentucky? Ah, good times, good times. Well, good times for people that weren't paying for gas money. Sorry about that, by the way.'

'Anyways, I hope that through some insane miracle you all make it to Seattle alive. I'm praying for you, bro.'

Your brother,

Travian