This can only end well.
I would like to point out that, whether she knows it or not, this is all Adiva's fault.
* * *
Epimetheus finds his brother leaning against the world's ugliest station wagon, parked at a rakish angle in front of his ranch house. Prometheus is patiently smoking a cigarette, which is about the only thing he ever does that's patient. Epimetheus comes out in a bathrobe, boxer shorts, and fuzzy slippers.
"What the hell is this?" he asks, still slightly bleary from a night out at the bars only a few hours prior.
"It's our dream machine," Prometheus replies, ignoring all the fresh air of the Indiana countryside in favor of his Marlboro. "Come on, put something on and get in. We're going on a trip."
"Ahaha. No, we're not."
"Don't be like that. Come on, someone else can milk your fricking cows."
Epimetheus bends down to pick up his newspaper. "Don't make fun of Lulu and Ruby."
Prometheus's eyebrows go up. "I wasn't, but damn, now I know their names. You've forced my hand a bit, little brother." Epimetheus sighs and shakes his head, opening up the local daily to scan the county headlines. Prometheus tosses his cigarette to the cracked asphalt. "You thought it was a great idea last night."
"You thought splitting an entire bottle of Cuervo Especial was a great idea last night."
"But it was, wasn't it? I got this sweet ride out of the deal!"
"You cheated at cards to win that junker, dude."
"But we have wheels."
"You cheated at cards wearing someone else's underwear on your head."
"She was a nice lady. I couldn't very well refuse to wear her token, could I?"
"And who says chivalry is dead?"
"That's what I'm talking about!" Prometheus pounds the hood of the wagon cheerfully. "Come on, put some clothes on. You know how I drive, it won't be a long trip. Just enough time to get some wind in our hair."
Epimetheus cocks one eyebrow. "I do know how you drive. I'm skeptical of our chances, and we're immortal."
"Well, you kind of don't have a choice. I already told some people we'd be taking them along with us."
"You what? Who?"
"Well, for one..." He makes a show of checking an imaginary watch where one of his manacles sits. "If we leave in ten minutes, I think we can make it to Arizona by noon tomorrow."
"Arizona? Who's...?" His face plummets. "You didn't."
Prometheus spreads his hands. "Her bike blew out a tire or something!"
"She's Coyote. I think blowing out a tire is the least she's going to do to a motorcycle."
"Sorry to interrupt, but man, I really wish I had a camera right now to capture this moment. Oh wait!" He pokes his head through the open window on the passenger side, flips open the dash, and takes out a cheap disposable encased in cardboard. Epimetheus doesn't even have time to focus before the flash goes off. Prometheus gives a megawatt grin. "Bunny slippers, bathrobe, wifebeater and boxers. That's going to be a gem for future generations to come."
"You--" Epimetheus lunges for the camera. Prometheus ends up winning this particular game of keepaway. Epimetheus sighs, and runs his fingers through his hair. "You want us to take a detour to Arizona. From Indiana. Where exactly is our final destination?"
Prometheus cracks his knuckles cheerfully. "I was going to decide while you were inside getting your things."
Epimetheus eyes his brother. "How's the sound system?"
"Tape deck, satellite radio, and a CD player upgrade. You didn't think I went for this POS for its sex appeal, did you?"
He snorts. "When I did foxes, I so had you in mind, o canny one."
"Aw, shucks, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said about me." He reaches into his jacket and holds up a cigarette. "I am going to smoke this. By the time I am done, you should be buckled in and telling me to hurry up, dammit."
Epimetheus folds his arms. "You know what?"
"What?"
"When I did the ass, I had you in mind too."
"Ba-dump-ching!" Prometheus lights the smoke and smirks. "Funny as you are, clock's ticking. I'd move fast if I were you."
Epimetheus crooks a smile. "Good thing you're not. Then I'd have to be you."
The cigarette's embers flare and scatter ten minutes later, as the two Titans peel off away from the sunrise, a lacy red thong flying proud from the station wagon's antenna.
* * *
Epimetheus finds his brother leaning against the world's ugliest station wagon, parked at a rakish angle in front of his ranch house. Prometheus is patiently smoking a cigarette, which is about the only thing he ever does that's patient. Epimetheus comes out in a bathrobe, boxer shorts, and fuzzy slippers.
"What the hell is this?" he asks, still slightly bleary from a night out at the bars only a few hours prior.
"It's our dream machine," Prometheus replies, ignoring all the fresh air of the Indiana countryside in favor of his Marlboro. "Come on, put something on and get in. We're going on a trip."
"Ahaha. No, we're not."
"Don't be like that. Come on, someone else can milk your fricking cows."
Epimetheus bends down to pick up his newspaper. "Don't make fun of Lulu and Ruby."
Prometheus's eyebrows go up. "I wasn't, but damn, now I know their names. You've forced my hand a bit, little brother." Epimetheus sighs and shakes his head, opening up the local daily to scan the county headlines. Prometheus tosses his cigarette to the cracked asphalt. "You thought it was a great idea last night."
"You thought splitting an entire bottle of Cuervo Especial was a great idea last night."
"But it was, wasn't it? I got this sweet ride out of the deal!"
"You cheated at cards to win that junker, dude."
"But we have wheels."
"You cheated at cards wearing someone else's underwear on your head."
"She was a nice lady. I couldn't very well refuse to wear her token, could I?"
"And who says chivalry is dead?"
"That's what I'm talking about!" Prometheus pounds the hood of the wagon cheerfully. "Come on, put some clothes on. You know how I drive, it won't be a long trip. Just enough time to get some wind in our hair."
Epimetheus cocks one eyebrow. "I do know how you drive. I'm skeptical of our chances, and we're immortal."
"Well, you kind of don't have a choice. I already told some people we'd be taking them along with us."
"You what? Who?"
"Well, for one..." He makes a show of checking an imaginary watch where one of his manacles sits. "If we leave in ten minutes, I think we can make it to Arizona by noon tomorrow."
"Arizona? Who's...?" His face plummets. "You didn't."
Prometheus spreads his hands. "Her bike blew out a tire or something!"
"She's Coyote. I think blowing out a tire is the least she's going to do to a motorcycle."
"Sorry to interrupt, but man, I really wish I had a camera right now to capture this moment. Oh wait!" He pokes his head through the open window on the passenger side, flips open the dash, and takes out a cheap disposable encased in cardboard. Epimetheus doesn't even have time to focus before the flash goes off. Prometheus gives a megawatt grin. "Bunny slippers, bathrobe, wifebeater and boxers. That's going to be a gem for future generations to come."
"You--" Epimetheus lunges for the camera. Prometheus ends up winning this particular game of keepaway. Epimetheus sighs, and runs his fingers through his hair. "You want us to take a detour to Arizona. From Indiana. Where exactly is our final destination?"
Prometheus cracks his knuckles cheerfully. "I was going to decide while you were inside getting your things."
Epimetheus eyes his brother. "How's the sound system?"
"Tape deck, satellite radio, and a CD player upgrade. You didn't think I went for this POS for its sex appeal, did you?"
He snorts. "When I did foxes, I so had you in mind, o canny one."
"Aw, shucks, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said about me." He reaches into his jacket and holds up a cigarette. "I am going to smoke this. By the time I am done, you should be buckled in and telling me to hurry up, dammit."
Epimetheus folds his arms. "You know what?"
"What?"
"When I did the ass, I had you in mind too."
"Ba-dump-ching!" Prometheus lights the smoke and smirks. "Funny as you are, clock's ticking. I'd move fast if I were you."
Epimetheus crooks a smile. "Good thing you're not. Then I'd have to be you."
The cigarette's embers flare and scatter ten minutes later, as the two Titans peel off away from the sunrise, a lacy red thong flying proud from the station wagon's antenna.