Of Boosts and Bollywood Part 3

The last segment in this enthralling adventure of a cow and his companion (another cow)

“-hhhhhhhhh,” Magnificent Cow and Crunch screamed as the wayward car flew over the grassy terrain, intent on crashing into the forestry a ways away from the road. Crunch cradled his head in his hands after bumping it repeatedly on the roof. He whimpered and cowered just as the car made contact with a thick tree that stopped the automobile in its path. A combination of metal crumpling and a shower of leaves met the ears of the terrified passengers. They stayed frozen for a couple for minutes, gathering their wits and verifying that they were indeed alive. Crunch surveyed his tousled surroundings, confirming that he wasn’t in heaven, given the absence of harps, clouds and boosts, which he pictured Heaven to be made of. Crunch shakily asked, “Are you all right?” A groan answered him from the front seat. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Crunch remarked. After a couple of tries, he managed to kick the door open, stumble about drunkenly and crumple to the ground; his legs too shaky to support him. Magnificent Cow clambered over the seat, exited the car and fell none too gracefully out of the car; joining Crunch, sprawled on the ground.

*

20 minutes later, the exhausted pair was staggering gradually down the highway with their thumbs pointed skywards. The sun had started its regular descent, gradually taking with it the light and heat essential to the weary travellers continuing journey. “Bloody hell!” exclaimed Magnificent Cow annoyed, as he swatted the air around him. “What?” asked Crunch, too weary to raise his head and look at his pal. “The bloody mosquitoes! Aren’t they terrorizing you?” asked Magnificent Cow, outraged that he was the only one suffering. “Not really,” shrugged Crunch, unconcernedly. “Well, that’s not fair! Why is that?” wailed Magnificent Cow. “Could have something to do with the fact that your top half is exposed? I hear mosquitoes are really into that sort of thing.” Crunch shot back, crankily. “Oh! Go pick on someone your own size!” yelled Magnificent Cow to the mosquitoes as he alternated assaulting the air and scratching himself. “Anyone with a spark will not suffer oppressiveness!” exclaimed the Crunch, wide eyed and loudly. “What!?” “It’s from Mosquito Coast…I just always liked how Harrison Ford said that,” explained the Crunch, sheepishly. A sudden burst of light appeared on the road and the two stragglers turned excitedly as they realised the source was headlights of an approaching car. “Put your hand higher. Quick! Look more cheerful and accommodating!” ordered Crunch quickly as he perfected his non-threatening, colloquial hitchhiker pose. “I beg your pardon?” asked Magnificent Cow. “Well, do you expect anyone to pick up two dirty looking buggers on the side of the road at this time of the day?” “Well, most hitchhikers aren’t exactly Mr Sheen and people still pick them up,” pointed out Magnificent Cow. “Yeah, but they aren’t usually topless and self-mutilating,” said Crunch, indicating Magnificent Cow’s scratched torso. “Personally, I think it’s the normal looking hitchhikers you have to look out for,” pointed out Magnificent Cow, defensively. “What? ...Why?” Crunch asked. “Well, the average crook is no longer criminal looking. You know, normal, everyday looking criminals are in fashion at the moment. The unsettling scruffy ones are becoming extinct. They went out with bell-bottom jeans and modesty.” “It is a hip-hop world, I guess,” admitted Crunch, “you gotta keep up or get out of the way.” He squinted at Magnificent Cow and said, “But no more police-y shows, all right? Do you promise?” Magnificent Cow sighed, held up his hand and answered, “Scout’s honour.” The car slowed as it neared the two pedestrians. The driver looked out at the two pedestrians, recoiled as he noticed that one of them had what looked like a chocolate moosh and sped off. “Aaaannnnd…there they go,” said Crunch, exasperatedly. “Pshaw!” Magnificent Cow exclaimed and swatted a mosquito on his neck.

*

A couple of hours later, the exhausted pair were sitting next to each other in the backseat of a car being driven by a cheerfully odd couple who had warmed to their guests immediately. A little too quickly in the Crunch’s opinion; he eyed the duo suspiciously as they watched him in the rear view mirror, grinning. “Damn these foreigners! I can’t understand a bloody word they’re saying!” thought the Crunch, frustrated as he recalled the first words out of his driver’s mouth.

*

“How now, you whoreson peasant?” the male driver had jubilantly greeted as the two hitchhikers approached the car that had just pulled over for them. “Tourists,” whispered the Crunch to Magnificent Cow and he tapped his nose knowingly. “Uhhh…Excuse me?” asked Magnificent Cow politely to the stranger. “Don’t mind him!” laughed the female from the passenger seat, “He is a huge Shakespeare fan and is forever quoting him to innocent passers-by.” The two hitchhikers both made understanding noises; neither having the faintest idea what she was saying but desperate for a ride. * “So….what’s your name?” the female passenger asked as the car started. Magnificent Cow repeated the question for his perplexed friend and he answered, “My name is Crunch Crunchleton.” “Crunch is thy name? I like thee well. And will employ thee in some service presently,” called the driver and the two people in the front seat giggled. Magnificent Cow and the Crunch exchanged uneasy looks.

*

Now, the two hitchhikers were sitting silently and dreamily. The female inquired at her two guest’s sudden silence. “Oh, we’re fine,” answered Magnificent Cow. “Yeah, we were just flashbacking,” the Crunch explained. * Magnificent Cow and the Crunch waved to the car as it drove away. “Weirdoes,” muttered the Crunch, “but at least we are finally here!” “About time,” grumbled Magnificent Cow, scratching his sore chest absently. The Crunch laughed, threw an arm around Magnificent Cow’s neck (who winced and shot daggers at his companion) as they eagerly entered Hollywood.