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It was too early for this.
Lightning groaned, pushing his pillow over his head and hoping to drown out the sound of incessant knocking. The alarm clock read 6:12 AM. He never got up that early unless it was a race day. Today was not a race day. Today was supposed to be a sleep in and relax day, one of only four before he needed to be on the road again back to Florida.
He did not appreciate being woken up so early on one of his off days.
When it was apparent that whoever was knocking was not going to stop, despite getting no answer for the last ten minutes, Lightning finally dragged himself out of bed and to the door. He opened it and immediately glared.
“Sarge, whyyyy are you knocking on my door at six in the morning?!”
The shorter man grinned, moving the toothpick in his mouth from one side to the other. “You’re gonna wanna put your pants on for this one, boy. We’ll be waiting outside.”
With that, he walked back down the hallway.
Lightning stared after him for a moment before shrugging and going back to his bed. For all of three minutes before he admitted to himself that he was curious what the heck Sarge meant. After locating a pair of clean pants (then locating a pair of used pants because there was no telling what they were going to be doing and he didn’t want to ruin his good clothes) he locked up his room and left The Cozy Cone. Outside, Sarge had his 1941 Willy’s Jeep parked and running. Sarge was not the only one sitting inside.
“Morning, McQueen!” Mater called, leaning out the window to wave enthusiastically like the horrendous morning person he was. In contrast, Ramone yawned and moved his hand in a vaguely wave-like motion. Ah, good, at least Lightning would have someone to complain about the early hour with.
Sarge scowled out the window at him. “Took you long enough! Were you lollygagging after I left? Back in the war we had to be ready to move in less than two minutes and you take half an hour to put some pants on!”
Lightning ignored Sarge. “Uh, morning guys. What are we doing?”
Ramone didn’t bother to shrug as Mater answered for them. “We dunno! Sarge woke us up this mornin’ saying he’s got somethin’ fun to show us!” All three boys looked to Sarge for an explanation.
The older man just grinned. “Get in the car and we’ll get going!”
Well, there wasn’t much to argue with there. Lightning hopped into the back next to Mater and a moment later Sarge took off down the road. They were a couple miles out when they turned off the road in a direction Lightning didn’t recognize. The trail, if there even was one, was bumpy and quickly woke everyone up who had still been drowsy.
“Hey man, not cool!” Ramone said, gripping his seat and the door tightly, having nothing else to hold onto.
“Shut yer yapping! We need to get far enough away from town that nobody will hear anything.”
Lightning felt a sudden need to escape. “Please, please, correct me if I’m wrong, but is someone getting murdered?”
Sarge didn’t look back at him, keeping his eyes on maneuvering the landscape in the early sunlight. “Not as long as we’re safe.”
“That makes me feel so much better.”
They continued driving for a bit until they were a fair distance away from the road and even farther away from town. Sarge had stopped the jeep on a short ledge and got out, gesturing to the others to do the same. Lightning was about to hop out when Sarge stopped him.
“You see a box down there by your feet?”
He checked and yes, there was a metal box with a handle squeezed partially under the shotgun seat, painted army green with faded white lettering on it. Lightning pulled it out and Sarge nodded.
“Pass it over, son. But be careful.”
Lightning chuckled, but was gentle anyway. “Why? What’s in it? A bomb?”
“Yes.”
He nearly dropped the box. “What!?”
“What did I just say, boy?!”
“You’re kidding right? That was a joke, right?!”
Sarge took the box, shooting a glare at Lightning. “No, I’m not joking! You don’t joke about explosives!”
“But you put one under my feet in the car and don’t tell me?!”
Any hesitance that Lightning, or any human being really, felt toward explosives was clearly not included in Mater’s genes. The big guy had lit up at hearing they were dealing with a bomb and had quickly invaded Sarge’s personal space to try to take a look. “Dag’un! What kinda bomb is it? One’a those Adam bombs? Or maybe a Tommy’s bomb? Oh! Oh! Is it a Food-Gin bomb?! I always wanted to see a Food-Gin bomb! Heheh, sounds like some kinda drink Flo would make!”
“Yo, is it really safe to keep it in a box like that?” Ramone asked, not getting too close but not quite as nervous as Lightning.
Sarge snorted. “Don’t get yer knickers in a twist, kids. It’s just a grenade.”
“I was sitting on a grenade!?”
“Hoo boy!! What’re we gonna s’plode!? Lemme throw it, Sarge! I wanna throw it!”
Sarge kept the box away from Mater’s grabby hands, shooting a further glare at him. “No, Mater! It’s just a grenade but you shouldn’t even be touchin’ one if you don’t have the proper training!”
With that, Mater backed off a bit, although his excitement could not be quelled. He quickly gathered up Lightning and Ramone, grabbing each by the shoulders and pulling them along to follow Sarge a bit away from the Jeep. Lightning and Ramone shot each other looks of brief terror.
“So listen boys, I brought you out here to show you a bit of fun, you understand?”
Ramone rolled his eyes. “Uh, yeah, getting kidnapped and throwing explosives. Lots of fun.”
“Don’t sass me, boy! But, uh, we should keep today’s adventure to ourselves, you hear? We don’t want old Sarge to get in trouble for having an armed grenade in his closet for the past twenty years, now do we?” All three agreed quickly and Sarge nodded happily. “Good. I knew you boys would appreciate this best. Which means you two,” he pointed to Ramone and Lightning, who both stiffened and glanced down at the box in his hand, “better keep yer mouths shut!”
“What ‘bout me?” Mater asked curiously.
“You can yap all you want.”
“What? How’s that fair?” Lightning called, indignant.
“Mater, you tell enough tall tales to everyone that no one’s gonna believe I took you out here and gave you a fireworks show at seven in the morning on a Tuesday!”
Sarge stopped and Mater took a moment to cross his arms and pout. “Ain’t nothin’ but truth that comes outta this mouth, y’hear?”
Ramone patted his arm. “Uh-huh, sure man. We all totally believe that you were a stuntsman.”
Lightning smirked. “And a wrestler.”
“A fireman.”
“And a doctor.”
“Didn’t you mention once that you worked for Area 51 at some point too?”
Mater huffed. “I get it! I get it!” He paused. “I didn’t work fer ‘em, just broke in tah save mah alien friend.”
The boys laughed as Mater frowned and Sarge set the box down and unlatched it. Sarge pulled out a rounded, smooth grenade in the same shade of green that the box was painted. He hefted it with a smile then looked out at the flats they were standing above for a good target. There was a nice sized cactus at about the right distance.
“Alright, boys, are you ready?”
Despite their previous hesitance, everyone was kind of excited to see the grenade go off. Sarge hoped that his throwing arm still worked the same as it used to. With three pairs of eyes on him, he pulled the pin and immediately threw the grenade.
They watched the short arc it made and how it bounced on the ground a good foot away from the cactus he’d been aiming for. There was a pause and then—
“DA’GUN!”
“WOAH!”
“AW MAN!”
Sarge grinned proudly at their shouts of appreciation for wanton destruction, vaguely reminding him of how he’d been back in training all those years ago. He spun the pin around his finger and turned that smile back to the boys. “Still upset I woke you boys up so early?”