Rarity Wrecks a Lambo
Admiral Biscuit
Donna had picked up plenty of wrecks, but she had never seen one happen right in front of her.
She’d glanced down to check the paperwork for her last tow, just to verify that she’d left the customer copy in the car. A moment later, a flash of yellow caught her eye. She was still trying to recognize what it was—she’d never seen a Lamborghini Diablo before—when it barreled past her, slid off the road, caught a tree and then yeeted itself off into the woods.
It didn’t sound like any crash she’d ever seen on television or in a movie, just a screech of tires, a hollow bang followed by a few thumps and cracks of branches snapping, then a loud clunk from the engine, and then all was silent.
What do I do? She had a radio, that was first priority. “Donna to radio, uh I just saw a crash in front of me.” There was a ten-code for an accident, but she didn’t know it and it was hardly worth digging out the book. “Some kind of sports car, hit a tree, it looks pretty bad.”
Donna shifted the truck into gear and flicked on all the switches on the light panel: strobes, rotaters, and worklights. A quick look at the road, no cars coming.
“Radio to Donna, what's your twenty?”
“Just dropped that car off on Guinea Road.” She had a pretty good mental map of the area. “So it’s just gonna be north of Billwood Highway, right near the railroad tracks.”
“Ten-four, standby.”
She parked the wrecker on the shoulder, facing oncoming traffic, and flipped the switch for the outside speaker.
“Radio to Donna, police and rescue have been notified.”
“Single vehicle,” Donna said. “Went off into trees, some kind of sports car, it’s pretty messed up. Didn’t roll. I’m going to check on the driver.”
“Stay safe.”
“Ten-four.” She grabbed her work gloves off the dash and hopped out the door. She knew some first aid, the truck had a fire extinguisher, and the L-arms for the stinger could easily bash through glass if it came to that. Hopefully it didn’t come to that; the passenger compartment appeared mostly intact.
What do you even say when approaching a wreck? The front of the car was demolished, and it had strewn bits of plastic and glass along its path.
She hesitated as a blue glow lit along one of the doors. Electrical fire? Before she could decide if she should go back to the wrecker and grab the fire extinguisher, the door popped partway open, then jammed in position.
Scissor doors. An expensive sports car.
Something started pounding on the door, almost like a hammer, and then it stopped.
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t know just yet.” A faint blue glow washed across the windshield and she heard a sharp plastic crack, then a moment later the passenger side door swung up and a white unicorn clambered out of the wrecked automobile.
She was floating the inside rear view mirror alongside her, and once she was clear of the car, studied her reflection, brushing aside her curled mane.
“Is there anybody else in the car?”
“Just me, darling.” The unicorn looked back at the wreck. “You don’t think it will explode, do you? Perhaps we should move further away.”
“Cars only explode in Hollywood.” There wasn’t any smoke coming from the wreck, just steam from the ruptured cooling system. “You can sit in the wrecker if you want. I already called for police and rescue.”
“Don’t need rescue,” the pony said, then stuck our her hoof. “I’m Rarity, by the way.”
“Donna.” Donna grabbed her hoof without thinking and shook it. “You sure about rescue?”
Rarity nodded.
“Let me call that in.” Donna opened up the passenger side of the wrecker then walked back around and reached the mic through the window. “Donna to, radio.”
“Go ahead.”
“Driver got out of the car on her own and says she doesn’t want rescue. She does not appear to be hurt.” Then, just in case the dispatcher considered saying something unwise over the air: “She’s sitting in the cab right now.”
“Ten-four. I’ll call and cancel the rescue. Uh, can you check ten-fifty-five?”
Fifty-five? That was a new one. Donna got out her cheat sheet and traced her finger down it.
10-55: Suspected DUI “Uh, I think that’s going to be negative, but I’m not a pro. Nothing obvious.” She hung the mic back up in its clip as the radio squawked its reply. “So, what happened?”
“That stupid car wouldn’t stay on the road, that’s what happened. I should have just turned tail and walked away, I wanted a good car and that’s what they sold me.” She snorted. “The entire outside’s plastic, not a good solid metal or wood. No wonder it wouldn’t stay on the road.” Her horn lit and a glow surrounded the sundered front bumper. It lifted off the ground and wavered in the air before it bent and was discarded again in the leaf litter.
Donna had heard the engine rev before it lost control, and had an idea that the driver was at least partially to blame for the accident.
Partially was being generous. Unless the car had suffered a mechanical failure. At least Rarity hadn’t insisted that the tree jumped out in front of her, unlike some customers she’d pulled out of the woods.
“Say.” Rarity turned around, noticing the boom and winch on the back of the wrecker. “You could pull that car out of the woods, couldn’t you?”
“This really isn’t the right truck for it,” Donna admitted. “It could cause more damage.”
“I really doubt that would matter at this point.” Rarity said. “Look at it, it’s obviously ruined. Even if it could be fixed, I wouldn’t want it back. It’s not worth it.”
Donna was no expert in the value of wrecked exotics, but had little doubt that what was left undamaged would be worth tens of thousands of dollars to somebody.
“Besides, I only paid ten bits for it.” She frowned. “I should have known better, a decent coach from Tracey & Fales costs twice that and you have to hire a pony to pull it. Or I suppose a rough and ready pony could pull it herself.”
“Bits? You mean bitcoin?”
“Bitcoin? No, real bits.” Rarity lit her horn and dropped a heavy golden coin in Donna’s palm.
“Is this solid gold?”
Rarity nodded. “Completely immutable, although there are plenty of unicorns who have tried, or so the legends say.”
“What are these even worth?”
“One bit?” Rarity shrugged, then pointed her hoof at the remains of the Lamborghini. “A tenth of that. Well, before I wrecked it. Now it’s worth noth—do you want it?”
“Want it?”
“Well, why not? I have no use for it, and you have a truck which can tow it away. Surely such a service comes at a cost.”
Surely the car was still worth thousands, and even if it wasn’t, she could keep it anyway and say she had a Lambo. “The cost of the tow, whatever it turns out being, is less than the value of what’s left of that car.” An honest answer was the best one. “I couldn’t possibly accept that.”
“I could toss in that bit coin to sweeten the deal,” Rarity offered.
“Well. . .”
“I have the title for the car in the glove box.”
Victoria eyed the mangled Diablo before turning back to face Donna. “Okay, so you weren’t kidding about having a Lambo. How did you even afford that? And why? It clearly needs a ton of work, and you know I’m not a bodyman.”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.” Victoria crossed her arms and tilted her head back towards the garage.
“It all started when I saw a unicorn crash it.”
Author's Note
Story notes!
