The “REAL” Reason Mikey Wrecked His Land Cruiser!

Hey, there, this is “the Fly”.

You’ve probably heard a lot about being a “fly on the wall” somewhere or another.

Well, that’s usually me.

Image courtesy of Lori Munro / www.War-Wagon.com

I have a toolbelt full of various electronic and mechanical gadgets that help me get into places no one else can get into, plus rocket propulsion and GPS to get from place to place quickly.

I was riding back from Charlotte with Michael Waltrip early last Saturday morning.

Yep, that’s right, I was in the Land Cruiser when Michael slid off the road, smacked a utility pole, and rolled that bad boy over.

But the news stories have got it all wrong.

Michael wasn’t asleep, and he definately wasn’t under the influence of anything!

Errrr, well, that’s not exactly true, especially if “anger” counts.

(weird music plays, signaling a flashback to last Saturday, early in the morning)

Michael Waltrip (while getting in car to leave the garage): OK, guys, see you tomorrow!

Waltrip starts the Land Cruiser, and heads toward Sherril’s Ford, NC.

Michael Waltrip: (humming a tune to himself) Da-dum, de dum dum da doo dum….

“The Fly”: Ummm, Michael?

Michael: What the….?!??? (car swerves and nearly runs off the side of the road) WHO’S THERE???

“The Fly”: (under his breath) Gee, and I didn’t even do “knock-knock”! (speaking normally, but hesitantly) I-i-it’s me, Michael. Your friend… “The Fly”.

Michael: (angrily) FRIEND!?!! HA! Try FIEND! Where are you, you little twerp?!?? I’ve been wanting to talk to YOU since Daytona.

“The Fly”: (still hidden) I’m sorry, Michael. I hid in your car so I could apologize. I really didn’t mean to cause all THAT trouble. I was just trying to help David out with a look at the spark plugs. Weird things just seem to happen to me sometimes.

Michael: (visibly gaining control of his anger, sighs) I know it… but durn it, Fly, do you know what you’ve done to me? First there was that Busch race at Bristol when I hit the gate because you were buzzing around my head, distracting me. If I’m counting correctly, a significant number of those 562 races without a win was because of various “weird” things that happened when you were around me. And now… THIS!

“The Fly”: (quietly) I’m really sorry. Can I do anything to make it up to you?

Michael: (sighs again) If you’ll come out here and tell me eyes to eye that you’re sorry, I’ll … (a lightbulb goes off) … forgive you. Yeah, that’s it. Heh-heh.

“The Fly”: (who is entirely gullible and too trusting) Gee, really? OK, Michael, here I come!

“The Fly” zooms out from under the dash board and lands on the steering wheel of the Land Cruiser.

Michael: (victoriously) Ah-HA! NOW I’VE FINALLY GOT YOU, YOU LITTLE PEST!!

Michael takes his hands off the steering wheel to grab our illustrious hero. In the excitement, he doesn’t notice that he has accelerated the SUV from a relatively safe speed of 55 to nearly 70.

He just misses “The Fly”, but in the process, somehow manages to bump “The Fly’s” retro-rocket-booster “on” switch.

If you’re one of the two or three long-time fans of “The Fly”, you can probably guess what happens next.

After a very quick acceleration in a very confined space, our hero bounces around inside the interior of the Land Cruiser like a “super-ball” (remember THOSE?) hit with a baseball bat.

“The Fly”: WHOOOOAAAA, CAMEL!!!

PING! SPUNG! CLANG! CLONK! MEOW! (meow?) THUNK! THUD! SPOING! PING! CLANK!

At the same time, Michael is waving his arms around trying to catch “The Fly”.

The SUV swerves toward the side of the road, then the right front tire slips off the pavement completely.

Sliding sideways, the vehicle hits a utility pole alongside Molly’s Backbone Road near Sherrill’s Ford.

Our hero, still frantically bouncing around inside the interior, finally goes out a window, his rocket fuel expended.

He sputters to a halt….

AAAAAAAAAANNNDD the Land Cruiser, flipping over from the impact with the pole, comes to rest (yep, you guessed it again) right on top of our illustrious insect.

“The Fly”: (looking up in dread) OH NOOO… AIEEEEEEE-CRUNCH! SPLAT!

Michael: (laying in a heap inside the SUV) DURN THAT STINKIN’ LITTLE INSECT!!! HE DID IT AGAIN! The police are NEVER going to believe THIS one… let alone Buffy!

Crawling out of the car, and not really thinking about the wreck, Michael begins the one mile walk home, muttering.

Michael: One day, I’m gonna get that fly! Stupid bug!

(Note: this article was written strictly for the enjoyment of this website’s readers, and is intended as humor/satire)