Eventually I must’ve got him, ‘cause he hit the kerb. We were on opposite sides just going round and round, you know? Shooting, except the signs kept blocking my shot. had, uhh, one hand on the wheel, other one holding the gun out the window. Join the Ringroad Maintenance Association, and after just two years fixing potholes-”
Doesn’t that sound amazing? It could be yours. Just you, four wheels, and the open road. No more slumming it up in the middle seat. But stay tuned, because after that we’re going to be talking about your second-favourite-I hope so, anyway-voice-in-your car: the SATNAV entity. Maybe this phantasmal Fiat really is the resurrected soul of some hooligan-certainly, no prizes for guessing how he departed in the first place.Īlright, we’ll be taking a short break for our sponsors. I’ve spent a third of my life on the motorway, and I think God is real, and he hates drivers. The road signs change the second you take your eyes off ‘em. Personally, my theory is that some psycho has found a bucket of glow-in-the-dark paint in the boot of a car and has decided to have a little lark-but who knows. He even caught the plate-apparently, it’s a ‘98 reg. Now I know what you’re thinking: ‘mate, what’s the problem, it’s a ghost, how can it cause a collision?’ Well, clever clogs, it turns out this thing isn’t quite so intangible, because one of my listeners claims to have been rear-ended by the damn thing. Yes, you heard me, ‘ethereal’, as in green-and-phosphorescent, and travelling at an estimated speed of ‘well-over-a-hundred’, changing lanes without the slightest regard for other road users. I’ve had eight, count them, eight independent reports from motorists on the M476 of an ethereal Fiat Brava travelling in an extremely dangerous and inconsiderate manner.
If ghost stories give you the heebie-jeebies, you might want to tune out for the next sixty seconds, ‘cause this next one’s downright bloody spooky.
#Mobius phantasmic loop guide full
I don’t want to sound like a broken record, but like I always say: the motorway is a dangerous place full of people who will try to kill you just to pinch your muffler, but the thing that’s most likely to kill you is your own stupid fucking monkey brain, which-need I remind you-is perfectly adapted for stalking gazelles through the plains of Africa, not piloting two-ton hunks of metal at ludicrous speeds along tarmac. Now, a little birdie tells me that the bloke in front was trying to play solitaire on his phone while going at ninety, and now his brain’s all over the middle lane, so let that be a lesson to you. In further traffic news, the M460 has been brought to a standstill by a nine-car pileup at junction one-oh-five. Unless you want to get blown to bits by petrol bombs! I don’t know, I’m not your mum. Motorists travelling along the M457 are advised to avoid the stretch between junctions three-two-three and four-five-nine. does it end?” That was Laney van Heerden, in a statement on the ongoing hostilities between the Van Gang and the Motorpool.
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