Smokey and the Bandit
How the Clam Chowder bet came through
We had another problem coming. The tires on the rig were dead flat. I could pump them full of air, but it would take some time. And guess who was speeding down the road right this very instant? You got it, Buford T. Justice. Buford was one of the meanest sheriff's in the state of Texas, and now almost the whole country. It was definitely possible to see why we were in deep trouble, and I mean it….deep trouble.
"Hey Cledus. We got us a Smokey headed toward us. We can't hide this rig, or hide behind it. I'm gonna go see if I can play cat and mouse with the boy, and see if I can buy us some time and buy his attention. I'll be right back, so hang tight good buddy."
"Ok Bandit, I hear you. Just raise me on the CB if you need any help. I'll stay with frog and change these sum bitch tires."
And after that, I jumped in the Trans Am and hit the gas. A cloud of dust and smoke filled the air. The car jumped forward, and took off like rocket. Within minutes, I was in Buford's sight. I had that old dog twistin' and turnin' through streets, up and down back alleys, and around the block in circles a couple of times. I hit the e-brake, and slammed the Trans Am into a couple of empty milk crates, creating a diversion for Buford and having him take his eyes off the road. Doing so, a few results came out of it.
"Daddy, what's that up ahead?"
"Oh my goodness Junior, we gonna hit those……" and then silence. Well, silence until a loud crash at least. Then Buford loudly cried, "Junior you sum bitch! You distracted me! You moose twit! I'm gonna have yo ass on a platter for breakfast!"
So there Buford goes, into the crates and off the road. He got his back bumper stuck on the guardrail. I sped back to Cledus waiting at the truck, all fueled and waiting to go. Time was running out, and we haven't even made it on the road yet. It was a long harsh drive to the next state from Georgia, which was South Carolina. Dodging police and roadblocks was just the least of it, too. I got one Smokey behind me, and one Evil Knievel on the side of me. The motorcycle on the side of my car was just getting a little too close for comfort.
"Snowman, I need you, son! Come on back, over?" I radioed on the CB.
"This here's the Snowman! Bandit, what's your 20, over?"
"Well those bears are wall to wall on me, and I need some help. Can you block 'em for me?"
"Bandit, you're a crazy boy, son. Don't you know that I ain't supposed to block for you, you're supposed to block for the truck…..me! Ha ha ha; right on you, Bandit. I'll see what I can do!" Snowman yelled into the CB.
I stepped on the gas a lot harder now, almost pulling away from the police. The car backed off a little, but the bike kept coming. Then I heard a loud blast from behind me. I saw a massive blue wall move up on the right side of me. I was boxed in. I have a motorcycle Smokey on the left, and the one "Snowman" on the right. I finally had recognition of the plan put into action. The truck slammed into me, right as I hit the brakes real hard. The truck went right into the motorcycle cop, who then took a wrong turn onto a train track, and crashed at the bottom of a ditch. The car was still coming up fast, and if nothing was done right now it was going to stay that was for a long time.