Work Text:
Title: Pink slip Racing.
Author: Numb3rsfan
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Collier & Co is owned and operated by John Schneider and Stand On It Productions. No copy write violation was intended in the making of this story.
Author's Notes: The idea for this story came from the opening scene from Collier & Co.
Summary: J.R. Collier is racing to obtain a pink slip for a K-19 prototype car. But is he really prepared to face the owner of that car in the race?
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The door to an old, out of the way bar, which sat near an old highway off of Route 11, near the outskirts of an old California town, suddenly opened to admit a middle aged man with sandy hair.
The man was wearing cowboy boots, blue jeans, a pinkish looking shirt and a tan, hide jacket.
He quickly sauntered over to the bar and proceeded to swallow every drop of whiskey, beer or whatever he could get his hands on, while he watched...well...listened to an all to familiar card game going on just a little ways away.
Hiding a grin behind his beer glass, J.R. Collier downed the contents of the glass, before he risked a glance at the table.
There he was...the man who owned the K-19 Widowmaker that J.R. just had to have for his growing business.
What he and his friend/mechanic Billy had told his wife a full twenty four hours ago, that they were nothing more than "independent contractors," came to mind.
To make everything seem ok, J.R. had given his wife a little spiel on how his business was legit. Of course, that was when Billy just had to open his mouth and tell Becky the sheer number of pink slips that her husband had obtained.
J.R. winced when he thought back to his wife asking Billy to take her home.
Sighing, J.R. was drawn back to the business at hand when the obvious loser of the card game came jaunting over to bar and asked the bartender for a bottle of liquor.
"Tough game?" J.R. asked casually as he carefully put his glass down on the counter and looked at the man, who just barely glanced back.
"Tough game ain't what I'd call it mister! That cheatin' redneck in there cleaned me out'a everything I own! Least I wasn't dumb enough to bet my beloved Widowmaker in the game." The man replied as he downed the glass that the bartender had handed to him moments before.
"Why didn'tcha bet the car? It really that crappy?" J.R. asked, setting the bait and hoping that the man was stupid enough to fall for it.
In the reflection of his still empty glass, J.R. could see the man beginning to shake with rage at what J.R. had said.
"Well now, I resent that!" The now every angry, and very sober man said as he curled his hands in to fists. "Nobody, an I mean nobody calls my Widowmaker crappy an lives to tell about it!"
"I just did Frenchy." J.R. replied casually as he now turned to face the man that he had so colorfully dubbed 'Frenchy', who then reared back and punched J.R. right across his face, which sent him flying out of his bar stool and on to the wood floor of the establishment.
'Now that was a punch.' J.R. thought as he brought a hand up to rub his now sore cheek. Because he was still a little dazed from the sheer force of the punch, J.R. wasn't ready for another blow to come smashing in to his other cheek, which sent him flying a little further away to bang against the front door of the bar.
"Now now...no need to get violent." He finally spat out as he sat up and spat the blood out of his mouth.
Seeing Frenchy stalking towards him with steam coming out of his ears, made J.R. quickly stand up and hold his hands out, palms outwards in a non aggressive manner.
"Alright Frenchy, why don'tcha prove to me how great your car is." J.R. said, getting ready to reel in yet another sucker, and add yet another car to his little collection of 'previously loved cars.'
"How?" Frenchy asked, not seeing the slight gleam in J.R.'s eyes.
"Simple. You race against me." J.R. replied in a casual tone of voice, as if that was the most obvious answer in the world.
"I don't race for fun pal!" Frenchy shot back, still quite mad at this man who had dared to trash the name of his beloved Widowmaker.
"Who said I was talking about racing for fun? I meant pink slip for pink slip. Winner take all." J.R. replied.
Frenchy smiled, loving the idea of beating this drunken idiot at his own game. This jerk wanted to race pink slip for pink slip? Heck, Frenchy had no objections because to him, it was an easy win.
"Deal!" He said, shaking J.R.'s hand for approximately five seconds, before shoving him outside in to the dead of night.
To avoid being shoved again, J.R. Collier walked at a brisk pace down the line of parked cars, till he came to a stop at one of the sorriest looking cars on the planet.
It was a grey 69' Dodge Charger, which looked like it had seen better days.
"She's a little beauty that I like to call the Traveler." J.R. said, deciding it best to leave off the little thing about Robert E. Lee.
"I'm racin' my Widowmaker against this hunk of scrap metal? I bet that car won't go over fifty miles per hour!" Frenchy said in disgust as he looked over the car that would, in the next ten minutes, be his...or so was his thinking.
"Yes, sir ya...hey now wait just a minute!" J.R. said, not liking the way Frenchy had trashed the name of his ever loved Traveler.
"Well, can always send it to recycling', make a few bucks off of it. " Frenchy muttered, not seeming to hear J.R.'s comment as his eyes roved over the sorry sight of the Traveler.
Finally he looked up and focused his attention to J.R., who was looking at him with a slight glare to his eyes.
"Where's your pink slip?" Frenchy asked.
Reaching in, J.R. flipped open the glove box and took out the wrinkled, grease, coffee and fingerprint covered pink slip.
"Right here in my hand!" He replied, before he brought the pink slip to his mouth and kissed it.
"Please! In the name of all things that are good and decent! Frenchy said when he saw the supposedly drunken fool kiss his pink slip.
Suppressing a chuckle, J.R. watched as Frenchy went to his car and retrieved the pink slip for it, before handing it to the bartender, who had come outside to see the race.
Taking the hint, J.R. also went over and handed his pink slip to the bartender.
"Alright, we go five miles straight down this road, then hook one left, then a right. Circle around the water tower and head back here. Got it?" Frenchy asked as he prepared to go get his car ready for the race.
J.R. nodded and gave a thumbs up sign before he walked over to the Traveler and slipped in to the driver's seat.
Smoothly he put the key into the ignition and started up the old car, which roared to life, unlike that time a few days ago when it had a tough time starting before the race for Tex's car.
Putting the car in to reverse, J.R. backed it up and purposely made it stall seconds before Frenchy brought his car to a stop beside the Traveler.
Smiling, John looked to his right and said, "It always does this when it's cold."
"Uhuh." Frenchy replied, not very convinced at all with J.R.'s statement.
Returning his attention to what he was doing, J.R. waited several seconds before he fired up the Traveler's engine, which roared to life. To J.R. Collier, his Traveler was rip-roaring and ready to go!
Within seconds a waitress stood out a little ways from both the cars. She gestured to the two drivers, making sure that they could see her clearly. When they gestured back, assuring her that they could, she raised her arm and gave a mental count down of ten seconds before she lowered her arm.
Immediately J.R. floored the Traveler, causing the car to shoot forward at a high rate of speed, but when he looked in his rearview mirror, he didn't see Frenchy's car behind him. Instead, that car was beside him, and fixing to pull ahead of him!
Forcing himself to calm down, J.R. allowed Frenchy to take the lead, and slowed down to make it look like Frenchy's car was really the better car.
Looking up ahead, J.R. saw the Widowmaker go in to the first turn and quickly prepare to take the second turn.
'Next's the water tower, that's when the Traveler will show his true colors!' J.R. thought as he entered the turn right behind the Widowmaker.
By the time they both reached the water tower, they were side-by-side and battling for the lead position of the two car race.
Knowing that the road dipped a little bit just a half mile up ahead, J.R. veered away from the Widowmaker and shot ahead, straight towards the dip, leaving Frenchy to wonder what he was trying to pull....which became apparent when J.R.'s car hit the dip and became air-borne!
"Showoff." Frenchy muttered as his car then hit the dip and also became airborne.
However, Frenchy wasn't prepared for this, and nearly lost control when his car came down, back on to the pavement.
Looking up ahead, Frenchy saw that J.R.'s Traveler was nearly at the bar.
Gritting his teeth, Frenchy floored his Widowmaker and quickly drew up along side the Traveler.
"You are seriously getting on my nerves boy!" he yelled as loud and as hard as he could.
'Well excuse me for living!' J.R. thought as he glanced out his side mirror and saw Frenchy yelling at him.
However, J.R. wasn't prepared for what Frenchy did next.
Not wanting J.R. to win the race, Frenchy swirved to hit the side of the Traveler and force it off of the road and out of the race.
J.R., not wanting his identity, or the identity of his car discovered, swerved the other way and managed to get the Traveler in to a spin.
The Traveler spun first one way and then the other, before coming to an abrupt halt against a tree.
Minutes ticket by before J.R. raced his slightly bloodied head from off of the steering wheel.
Looking out, he saw the bartender laying in to Frenchy, who was on the ground, already sporting several bruises.
Blinking back the stars, and the specks of blood, J.R. crawled out of the window of the Traveler and placed to shaky feet on the ground...and that was when he noticed the damage to the Traveler.
The front end was all smashed. There were scratches all along its grey paint job, which was supposed to hide its true color.
Two of the tires were blown upon impact with the tree, not to mention that the right side door was somehow bent inwards, just a bit.
'Ah man! Billy's gonna kill me.' J.R. thought as he surveyed the damage to his car.
"Hey man, you alright?"
Turning, J.R. saw the bartender standing right behind him, with both pink slips still in his hands.
"When we saw Mr. Bigalow try and make you run off the road, we weren't about to stand for it." The bartender explained as he handed the two pink slips to J.R.
"What? We? Who's 'we'?" J.R. asked, not quite following what the bartender was telling him.
Hooking a thumb behind him, the bartender pointed to seven men who had watched the race, pounding some sense in to Frenchy, who by that time was crying like a baby.
"Oh, by the way, nice race. You had a strong finish. Came in two seconds ahead of Frenchy with that spin of yours." The bartender said, before he turned and went back to the fight already in progress.
J.R. watched the bartender go, before he looked down at the pink slips in his hands.
A smile came to his face as he walked over to the Widowmaker and began to check it over.
After several minutes, J.R. stepped out of the Widowmaker and proceeded to hook it up to the Traveler, in order to tow the Traveler away from the scene and to a much more deserted location before loading both vehicles into the trailer before he would take them back to his little 'base of operations.'
With the Traveler safely hooked up to the Widowmaker, J.R. slid back in to the driver's seat and fired up the powerful car, before hitting the road.
Driving down the road for several minutes gave J.R. a little time to think of how he could explain the damage to the Traveler. With nothing coming to mind, J.R. decided to just tell Billy now and get it over with.
Reaching over, J.R. grabbed the C.B. mic and contacted Billy.
"Hey Billy, got the K-19, but uh..." J.R. began, not really sure how to delicately tell Billy what had happened.
"But what? What did you do?" Billy asked in a no nonsense tone of voice that made J.R. cringe for a second.
"I...wrecked Traveler." J.R. said in what to him, sort of sounded like a question.
"YOU DID WHAT?!!" Billy roared in disbelief.
J.R. grimaced, knowing that Billy wasn't going to be forgiving him for this one for quite some time to come.
Sighing, J.R. began to tell Billy what happened, while he arranged for a pick up location so they could tow the Widowmaker and what was left of the Traveler back to their base of operations without any preying eyes watching them.
THE END