It was 3 AM, and my blue minivan was flying down a country road at
speeds that would make NASCAR drivers blush. Raucous laughter floated up
to me from the far back seat - the source of it obviously my brother,
Luke, and his two friends, Kevin and Nick. The middle seat was taken up
by Jeremy and his brother, Carlton. Both boys were members of my
roleplaying group, and occasionally gamemastered themselves. Their
banter over some minutae of a roleplaying system was largely drowned out
by the younger crowd in the back. The honored position of shotgun was
taken by none other than Alex, my intellectual equal and cynical partner
in the observation of life. The current topic between us was yet another
of our famed metaphoric conversations. By starting with a base metaphor
for something simple and extending it so far as to nearly make it
implausible, our dialogue became nothing short of bizarre.

"So Germany's planning an all-out assault on Chad. Those Panzers will
ROLL over Africa." Alex grinned with that all-knowing smile. Often I'd
wondered what it would feel like for my knuckles to have a short but
forceful chat with those teeth. But tonight was a special night. This
was the last time we'd all be together before we split up for various
colleges, or, in the case of Carlton, my brother, and his friends, back
to high school. So I let him grin.

"Lusitania will be there to provide naval cover. You know we have that
kick-arse battleship just rolling off the line..."

Carlton's voice erupted from the middle, drowning out the rest of my
phrase. "Like HELL the Coalition can withstand the full force of
Tolkeen! Those mages would WASTE their skelebot legions!" 

At this, Jeremy broke into an open laugh. "Look, Carlton. It's like in
Star Wars. The Empire mass-produced everything..." Their conversation
dwindled down to normal levels, only to be replaced by Nick vocalizing
his opinion on a wholly different subject. 

"I'm telling you, Luke, she's absolutely scrumptious!" I ignored him and
returned to my conversation with Alex.

"So anyways. How go things between Lusitania and the Lunar Colonies?"

"Like syrup over the back of an anole, Alex. Like warm maple syrup." I
gave him a smug smile.

I got a raised eyebrow in response. "You know, sometimes you worry me."

Now it was my turn to grin. "Only sometimes?" 

"When I actually pay attention to that foreign language you speak,
yeah." That got a chuckle out of me. 

As the noise in the far back reached a crescendo, I craned my head
around to scream something along the lines of "Shut the hell up, you
whining little sycophants." However, Lano's arm grabbing my head and
twisting it back around to face the road precluded that happening. Then
I noticed WHY he was twisting my head.

Quickly I returned my attention to the road. As it turned out, I was
just in time to slam on the anti-lock brakes and squeal to a stop right
in front of a stop sign, sending a screech of doom out into the night.
Conversations ceased, mainly due to the fact that seatbelts were now
obstructing air from reaching anybody's lungs. With a resounding THUNK,
the back end of the van set itself back down on the pavement. 

A rare moment of silence enveloped the vehicle as an 18-wheeler flew
past at about the same speed I'd been going. Then, just as quickly as it
had grown quiet, a cloud of profanity enveloped the surrounding area,
most of it directed at me. That soon passed, however, and we began once
more on our way to a night full of fun, memories, and friendship.