The Last Moron On Earth

"So," I began, climbing out of the truck. "You said something eerie and cryptic about going east?"

"Yeah," Winter began, after some pause. "We've been walking since-"

"You do know that you got off the eastbound 10 proper, right? You're walking down the triple-1, which runs down to Mexico. Or, like, down to more desert for a while." I continued as she made to speak, "Yeah, indoor ranges are for dweebs with anything smaller than .223, so knowing all the ways to get to open deserts is a must. Also, a good place for metal scavenge, because being broke sucks and people will pay good money for scrap steel." There's *that** look again.*

"O-kay...I was going to say, we've been walking for days, and wanted to get some more water before getting back on track. We spent most of yesterday at those stupid cement dinosaurs, and were just going to-"

Oh *hell** naw.*

"I don't care if you're the only other adult, er, practical adult, you just lost shotgun privileges to the shiny one."

"...What?"

"Those dinosaurs are a national treasure, and nothing anyone says will convince me otherwise. A day there is a day well spent!"

Winter simply shook her head and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'God-damn idiot'. Tough but fair. At least she was grinning a bit.

"O-kay then....so what's say we get this show on the road, eh?" She asked, timid enthusiasm breaking through her irritation.

"Woah there. You're, heh, you're putting the cart before the horse here. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for driving out to meet up with anyone else still around, but there's a whole lot of east in relation to our current location."

"Look, you just focus on getting us mobile, and I'll keep us on track. Deal?"

Shit, it sure beats driving around aimlessly like some kind of chump. Plus, actual human(ish) company! "Yeah sure, why not?"

We'd spent the better part of an hour trying to hitch that stupid cart to the rear of the truck; rather, I spent nearly ten minutes with some rope and a whole lot of duct tape, and Winter spent almost an hour after that trying to convince me it wasn't structurally stable, despite the mounting evidence to the contrary. We'd still loaded most of the cargo wherever we could fit it in the truck bed, but she still had some supplies I wasn't willing to part ways with.

After the hassle of getting all the damned kids into the back, we loaded up ourselves. Despite my addmitidely silly gripes, Winter sat beside me in the passenger seat, with the living blue glowstone seated in her lap. After a few awkward seconds of near silence, she began.

"Well? Are we going to be moving any time soon?"

"Well yourself. Aren't you going to put on your seatbelt?" Safety....well, maybe not first, but it is a priority. At least for them. "I know all the cool kids these days don't wear their belts anymore, but back in my day we had those crazy safety videos, and I ain't having none of that shi-er ish on my watch."

"Oh you've gotta be....Look, CHP isn't going to be ticketing us, and nobody's going to be around to crash into us. I think we have bigger issues at hand," She said, with a roll of her eyes. "Besides, you aren't wearing your seatbelt!"

"Winter, my dear, there's two ways that children will learn: examples and warnings. If you can't serve as a good example," I began, motioning for her to fasten her seatbelt, "then you should serve as a horrible warning. In the unlikely event of disaster, I plan to show what happens if you don't buckle up. Again." I wasn't going to tell her I never really dealt with children myself. Also, seatbelts were uncomfortable as shit as a horse.

She sat with her mouth agape for a second before moving to buckle up, all the while muttering something about how little and how much sense that made. I'll admit that Its a terrible bit of advice, and child-rearing shouldn't be left to me but, you know, little victories.

Despite my best efforts of avoiding awkwardness, the ride was, well, hella awkward to say the least. You can only play 'I spy' with kids you don't know in the desert for so long. Worst part was, I tried explaining that, yes, those little green things are, in fact, cacti, and we might not see the actual person-shaped saguaro for a few hours, but I don't think I got through to them. And yes, its cacti, not cactuses, I don't care what the new textbooks say.

After a drawn out sigh, I absentmindedly began twisting the radio dial to and fro, searching for something other than dead air. No such luck.

"Pretty eerie, isn't it? Not even static being broadcasted. Its just, silence.... Kinda makes you realize just how bad things are."

What a downer. She must be fantastic at parties.

"Sucks mostly, I get stir crazy in silence." With not much to do but drive, I began searching my side of the cab for a CD, tape, or anything to help pass the time. "Hey, check the glove box for some music or something, yeah?"

"You didn't even look through the car before driving off? What are y- forget get it, fine...."

She dug through a surprising amount of useless crap. You'd think a rental truck would be kept organized and tidy, but the paper scraps and light trash showed otherwise. She shut the hatch, and flipped down the passenger sun visor. Various fast food receipts showered down much to little Elliot's amusement, however a clattering on the floor mat below caught my attention. A cursory glance yielded...no fuckin' way....

"Ha-ha, cassingle. Nice."

"Ca-what?"

"A cassette-single. Old school and cool. I think so at least," I could do little to curb my enthusiasm. It was equally weird and cool as hell to find one of these damn things in the car. As she picked it up I asked, "So, what song are we stuck with?"

"It just says 'M-C-E'. Any idea what it means?"

"Maybe a dyslexic likes My Chemical Romance....heck if I know," I glanced at the center console to confirm my theory and....yes! "Pop that sucker in and lets find out if its any good or not."

After a little bit of fumbling (seriously, hooves aren't made to press small buttons) I'd rewound the single, and with careful optimism, started the track.

Light strings and the rhythmic double kick of a bass drum filled the cab of the car. Vague familiarity brought a grin to my face, but it wasn't until the lyrics kicked in shortly that I fully recognized the song. I couldn't help but laugh.

"M-C-E, its Mama Cass Elliot! Duh!"

Amidst a few grumblings behind me of 'old people music' and 'boring' was Winter's 'Mama who?'.

"Okay, I'll admit that yes, I only know who she is because of Lost, but she was like a big deal in the late 60's and early 70's....nothing?" Seriously? "Ahem, Once I believed that when love came to me....It would come with rockets, bells and poetry...oh come on I know I've heard that on the radio."

"Maybe on that oldies station, but I can't say I've ever heard of her before."

"Whatever, I'm just glad we're stuck with a pretty cool song," with a glee that only terrible singers know, I joined the cassette. "E-ven if no-bo-dy else sings a-looooooong!"

"Lord, give me strength...."

"No fuckin' way...." I needed to check it out, this was too good to be true. We'd only been driving for a few hours (to the same hella rad tune, over and over again), but it had clearly taken its toll on the kids; they were all scattered about the seats, snoring and muttering in their slumber. Winter seemed on the verge of sleep herself, and was only shaken out of her stupor as I pulled the truck to the side of the freeway.

"Hmm? What's going on? Why are we stopping?" So groggy, so inquisitive, and just the teeniest bit adorable. Confound this horse change, everything's all cute and shit.

Okay, this is it. Don't be dumb. She won't support you if you're dumb. "I, uh, need to drain the mongoose." FUCK.  "It needs draining." Stop being weird!

"Oh, o-kay, whatever..." She turned to one side, and closed her eyes. Speech check success!.

I quietly exited the truck, and went towards my real goal; up ahead was a large semi truck with an entire flatbed full of golf carts. I mean, I'd done nothing but joyride in a bunch of some sweet trucks since the Horsening, but golf carts, man!

I lowered the ramp, gaining access to the back-most carts, and entered one. It had a small yellow box zip-tied to one of the shiny metal poles holding up the roof and windscreen, which was labeled simply as 'keys'. I opened it and was rewarded with a bunch of numbered but otherwise identical keys. Highly visible and easily accessible? Quality security like this is, er, was why the world is such a shitty place.

I took the one marked with a like number to the cart itself, and tried starting the thing. Nothing. You ding-dong, electric carts don't have engine sounds. I turned the key again, set it to forward, and tried the pedal. Still, the cart remained silent and stationary. Womp-womp.

"Hmmm," I hmmm'd to myself. I went about searching through the various panels on the side, there might be some hidden button, or secret code, or....yep, dangling pig-tail means a missing battery.

Well, okay, long term, I might be shooting myself in the foot here....but short term....

With reckless abandon I hurried back to the truck, and went about searching the rear bed for batteries, tossing them into a pile once retrieved. The action awoke Winter, who descended from the passenger side, confronting me with a quizzical gaze.

"There's some sick-ass carts over there, I can't not test them out."

There was a noticeable twitch in her forehead that I chose to ignore. Her glare was likewise unnoticed as I carried the battery (handle in my mouth, bleh) over to the cart.

"We're finally making good progress, and you go and decide to stop for a damn golf cart?!"

I went about trying to connect the battery posts to the matching cable terminal without being fried (and without fingers).

"Wlll, idzt ndd lck idz juz mmhe." Talking through a battery cable is challenging, but evasive and annoying so pretty rewarding.

"What?"

"I said, its not like its just for me," Finishing up, I closed the compartment door and went back to the battery pile to restart the process. Trial runs are for dweebs and pansies; go big I always say.

She was still glaring, but remained silent as I repeated the installation process another three times. All the commotion was gathering attention from the adorable horse kids, who looked on silently.

Once again...."With feeling!" I keyed life into the first cart, and with an electric whir, the cart shot off a few feet. "Success!"

Ignoring the growing curiosity of those gathered, I brought each cart to a halt next to the truck, and climbed into the bed. Jumping from the bed of the truck to the roof of a cart was hilariously terrifying, especially weighed down with supplies, but it was happening. I put a thin strip of tape around one edge of a traffic cone, securing it loosely to the roof. Then, I'd simply hopped to the next cart and repeated the process. Still hilariously dangerous, these hooves have surprisingly shitty traction on the smooth plastic roof.

Regardless, goal secured, method incoming.

I made my way back to the first cart, and hopped back into the truck bed (totally didn't buckle under my weight and hit the bed wall with my face. Nope), I went about taping tarps around some light PVC tubing. Grabbing EVERYTHING I was used to working with made everything simple in the apocalypse, go figure.

Finishing a pole, I brought it up as best I could, and smacked myself in the face. It only stung slightly, and thats because I'd used way more force than one sensibly should, but still, progress! I was vaguely aware of a few chuckles, and I'm pretty sure Winter thought I'd gone mad, but I still had another three to finish, so judgement be damned, I went to finish (and subsequently test) three more.

Finally finished with all the material preparation, I stood before the assembled crowd of adorableness. Clearing my throat, I began, "Alright poozers, who's ready for some fun?!"

Nothing. What a bunch of....well, poozers.

"Eesh, fine, I'll explain. Its simple really." I set about explaining everything clearly and visually. "Team up, hop in a cart, and grab a stick." I grabbed a stick in the crook of my hoof leg thing, and climbed into the cart, sitting rather uncomfortably on the bench seat. "Right pedal is forward, left is brake, and middle is reverse. Now, you'll have drivers," I turned the steering wheel quickly left and right, "who just focus on not getting hit, and lancers, who use the bitching 'lances' I made to knock down the roof cone." I tried knocking down the cone atop my vehicle, but it was impossible. "Well, you dont hit your own. Gotta knock out the other carts, y'know? Shouldn't be too difficult or dangerous. So! Whats say we form teams, eh?"

Despite their trepidation, they were quick to form three other teams, Winter reluctantly acting as driver for 'Team Magnificence'. The shiny child beside me was my only partner in 'Team Elliot' and acting lancer given his inability to reach the pedals. I'd taped him to the rear bar, so there was little chance of him falling out due to unforeseen circumstances. Unlike Winter, he didn't seem to mind, laughing as he swung the lance giddily.

"So, are there any special rules, or....?" An orangish girl, team 2's driver, called out to me across the various chattings going on while everyone got ready.

"I think-" Winter began, before I cut her off with the admittedly underwhelming electric whirring of the cart's motor.

"Don't let your cone get hit....oh, and don't die!"I added as an afterthought.

We must have spent a good half hour dicking around in the carts. Rounds never ended, cones were simply righted with bursts of acceleration or accidental lances. Nobody was keeping score, but Team Elliot probably wasn't doing too well, but nobody got hurt, and that's a win in my book. I mean, I'd gotten hit more than a few times from team 2 and Magnificence, given that there were no rules regarding beating the snot of an overly aggressive driver who presented a big target. Those lances were padded to hell with cloth tarps, so I'd survive.

Not bad for a quick excuse to play with electric carts.

With the sun setting the game died down, and we were all content to simply drive around at our leisure, enjoying the scenery and just having fun. I pulled our cart off the road near the truck, intending on getting a water to soothe my throat (I'd cut back on swearing a ton during the game, but no way I wasn't going to cry and yell in the heat of the moment), telling Elliot that I'd be back.

I reached one hoof off the lower deck and onto the packed desert sand, and thats when everything went wrong.

I felt a jolt run through my leg, and my whole limb was numb. My heart skipped a beat as my leg locked up, and I fell out of the cart.

The jolt continued down my spine, spreading the numbness throughout my body.

I tried getting up, succeeding in only spazzing out on the dusty ground before being completely unable to move. Attempts in calling for help resulted in a sickly gurgle, but soon I couldn't even do that.

Angry red glances of the setting sun broke through the obstruction of my dirty mane.

I soon lost sight of the sun, and everything went black.