What they don't teach you in Pizza Blast 101.. (jk clay)

****WARNING*****

Just let me say that I DO NOT condone any of the actions performed by myself or by my friends in the following story.  

This is a true story that I have told several times.  Even though some of you might have heard it or actually have been a part of it, I figured it would still be a good one to post.  None of the names have been changed to protect the innocent or the guilty.

**************************************************************************************

This story takes place way back in the year 2000.  It was a simpler time, a more carefree time in my life and the lives of my high school friends, and most importantly, a time when Ladson road was still only two lanes.

It was a Friday night, and our youth group was having, what super cool churchgoing folk call, a pizza blast.  I don't really recall the specific reason for this get together or anything that happened during it.  However, it matters little, because this story is about the events that transpired on the way home.

At the time I was really close with my three best friends, Chris, Andrew, and Aaron.  Together we made up the members of the very well-known, very influential Christian pop-punk band, Stanely's Story. (you might have seen some of our shirts at Good Will)  Anyways, we pretty much went everywhere together so it's not a surprise that we were all together on this faithful night.  The only problem was, in this certain instance, I was the only on of us who had both a working car and a license.  And to make things even worse, my car was actually a tiny four cylinder nissan truck.  Therefore, when everyone rode with me we either had to cram all four of us into the cab, or have two guys ride in the bed.  On this night we chose the latter.    

When the party wrapped up, around 12:30 that night, we said our good byes and headed for the door.  But before we reached it our youth pastor called out to us, "there is so much pizza left, would you guys like to take some home?"  We answered by turning around and grabbing about six or seven boxes off of the table.  We then proceeded out the door in silence.  We didn't want to spoil this beautiful moment with words.  

When we reached my truck, Chris and Andrew offered to ride in the bed to look after the cheesy blessings we had just received, and at the time I was thankful for their sacrifice. Although now I know that what we thought were delicious, pepperoni and mushroom-topped slices of Heaven were actually greasy, cursed, pieces of pure evil that would soon possess us to do horrible deeds. 

After we loaded up, Chris and Andrew hopped in the back, and Aaron and I Climbed into the front.  Before we took off I awkwardly slid the small back window open so we all could still talk to each other. Then I started the engine, put it in gear, and pulled out of the parking lot onto Lasdon Road.  I don't remember the conversation we were having, but I do remember that we weren't far down the road by the time we realized that Chris and Andrew were not contributing to it anymore.  All we heard from the back were spontaneous spouts of laughter.  We quit talking and focused our attention towards the back, in order to understand what was the cause of the suspicious giggling.  When I looked in the mirror all I could see were our friends sitting upright with their backs facing us.  They didn't seem to be doing anything, and, for the moment, the laughter had ceased.  We waited a little, and still nothing.  The lights of an oncoming car forced me to place my eyes back on the road ahead, but as soon as the car passed by the laughter shot out again.  I tried to forget about it and just finish the conversation, but my curiosity prohibited me from fully doing so.  I continued to drive with my attention divided between Aaron's words and the laughter in the back.  Then it hit me.  Or shall I say, it hit an oncoming sedan. 

I don't know why I didn't notice the correlation between my friends' laughter and the passing vehicles sooner.  It wasn't until I heard a third noise that I realized what was going on.  This noise was a squishy, but loud splat that happened between the sound of the sedan passing and the burst of childlike glee coming from the mouths of Chris and Andrew.  Yes, they were tossing pieces of pizza off the side of my truck and onto the windsheilds of poor, unsuspecting motorists.  So did I scold them for this and make them stop, no. No I didn't.  I did the exact opposite actually.   I reached my hand through the window and asked for a slice.  I then rolled down my window and waited for the next moving target, which happened to be a giant semi truck.  It was one of the happiest moment of my life, staring down the huge bright lights of the semi, anxiously waiting for it to come close enough to hit. 

The noise was not a splat.  It was a way louder, BANG!  I was very pleased.  

I think we hit about three more cars before I heard Chris shout, "oh crap! that car turned around!"  I figured he was just saying that to make the ride more exciting, but I played along anyway and hastened my speed.  I kept hearing "he's coming, he's coming!" and so I drove faster and faster.  I was having a lot of fun without a care in the world, still not believing their warnings.  But my certainty about their lies quickly turned to doubt when I pulled onto Lincolnville road, and, in the mirror, I saw them throw out all the boxes into the dark woods that lined the street. 

I all of the sudden got really serious, and I could not keep my eyes of the darkness behind us.  I was waiting to see if the next pair of lights to turn onto the road behind us were those of  a pissed off driver. Chris said that the car that he had hit, looked like a light full-size car, so I was relieved to see that the next care to turn in behind us was a dark mini van.  We all began to calm down, figuring the danger was over.  But it was far from over.  Just as my heart rate starts to drop back down to normal I spotted another pair of head lights move out from behind the mini van, and quickly pass it in the oncoming lane.  Shit.  There was no question that this guy was the one we had hit, and there was no question he was angry.  I pictured a middle-aged father type of guy pulling up beside us, lowering his window, and yelling that he got my license plate number and was going to call the cops.  This was the worst case scenario I could come up with only because, while I did have a license, it was a restricted license I got so I could drive myself to my part time job.  Which happened to be cooking at Pizza Hut. Ha!  Anyways, the reason that getting the cops involved would be a very bad thing is because of the fact that my restricted license only allowed me to be on the road between 7AM and 12AM.  By this time it was about 1 o'clock in the morning.  So I prayed that it was some crazy redneck who had nothing better to do than to chase us around trying to scare us.  Not really wanting to actually get us in trouble with the law.  Well, all hope was lost when the middle-aged father of three/scary toothless redneck turned on his blue flashing lights.   

....to be contiued