It was the best fucking car chase Christie had ever been in. The wind in her hair, the lights of a dozen police cars strobing the highway red and blue, Britney pumping angrily from the speakers. Christie stuck her whole head out the window and laughed at the world. She had a full tank of gas and a beautiful, beautiful engine. She’d lead these piggies all the way to Missoula if she could. Seriously, this was awesome.
“Ahem,” Chaz, riding shotgun, cleared his throat, or whatever. “Listen, Chrissy, I think we should stop seeing each other.”
Christie slammed her foot to the floor, and the T-Bird lurched forward like a hungry metal cheetah inches from the rump of a delicious metal gazelle. “WHAT?!” she screamed, and beside her Chaz winced.
“I think you’re a great girl. Really great. And I really care about you. I’m just not in a great place right now, and I think I need to make some changes.” Chaz scratched nervously at his nose, which was long, green and covered in knobby little spikes at the end. Christie had always loved his nose, and suddenly her eyes began to swim with tears.
“Y-you’re b-breaking up with me?!” she sobbed. Behind her the cops were blaring, pleading with her through a megaphone, for everyone’s sake please pull over.
Chaz turned three of his seven light-sensitive organs to look at her. “I’m sorry. I really am. You’re really great, you know? But, like, what are we doing with this, you know? Sometimes I think we are just stumbling around together out of habit. Are we even connecting anymore?”
“What the hell is this?” Christie shouted, swerving viciously to avoid a minivan. “We were connecting last night, weren’t we? We were connecting when you fucked me with all your tentacles!”
Chaz squirmed uncomfortably in his bucket seat, but he soldiered on.
“Well, obviously I find you very attractive, and I’m definitely going to miss that. I mean, I’m going to miss a lot of things. But I really feel like I need to reevaluate some of my priorities. I really want to be able to focus on my art.”
“Your art?! You make crop circles all the time!”
Chaz looked hurt. “Crop circles is just my work. Come on, Chrissy. You know I used to paint a lot. I know I told you all about it. Landscapes with oils and water colors, remember? Well, mostly water colors, I guess…”
He trailed off. Christie was gnashing her teeth mutinously. Chaz eyed her thumb, which was getting a little too close to the big red button on the left side of the steering wheel.
“Listen, I know this probably wasn’t the best time to talk about this, but, uh, don’t do anything rash.”
Christie ran a hand through her pink-blonde curls and glared at him. “Why the hell shouldn’t I?” Chaz didn’t say anything. “That’s what I thought,” she muttered, but she didn’t press the button.
They sat in silence for a minute, listening to the sirens and the stereo. “It’s Britney, bitch,” Britney said as the CD started up again.
“So where are you going to go, Chaz?” Christie asked bitterly. “You’ve been mooching off me for three months now. Where are you going to be able to afford an apartment?”
Chaz flapped all his lips and stared out the window. A sky blue ‘Welcome to Montana’ sign flashed by on their right, and behind them the police cars wavered uncertainly. “Well, my brother is moving in with his girlfriend, so I thought I’d go stay with my folks on the mothership for a while.”
Christie snorted loudly, but tears were still trickling down her cheeks. This had been the best fucking car chase ever, and Chaz had to go and ruin it.
“Get out,” she said finally. Leaning over, she reached across his bulbous, undulating abdomen and shoved open the passenger-side door. “Go.”
Chaz opened his mouths to protest, but thought better of it. He pulled himself out of the bucket seat and slipped out the open door, holding onto the window with three of his tentacles. The interstate flickered by, rough and gray beneath him.
“Goodbye, Chrissy. I hope you aren’t too mad at me.”
With that he let go, and in an instant he was gone, zooming away in the other direction on his little, stupid rocket. Behind her Christie heard tires squeal and a dull crunch, but she knew she hadn’t lost them.
It was suddenly very lonely in the T-Bird. “Shit,” Christie said, banging the palm of her hand on the top of the steering wheel, and she let the tears overtake her for a moment, hot and angry. Then she wiped them away and shook out her curls.
“I’m Mrs. Lifestyles-of-the-rich-and-famous. You want a piece of me?” Britney moaned around her. It was still a pretty good car chase, she thought, and the car did have a pretty good sound system.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, Christie saw that the cops were falling behind, and she eased up on the gas a little. It was a long way to Missoula still, and it wouldn’t be any fun if she got away.