N and Kels sit down and tour the Colorado back country and play with glow sticks and race, race, race! Be warned: N is going to try and (poorly) paint some boobs on a Golf GTI just after racing a Bugatti Veyron up the game’s interstate at rocketing speeds!
Part 3 (Read Part 2)
The FEZ Mobile was in action. By action, I mean it was stop-and-go traffic all the way up Space Manhattan. The Obama administration had commissioned the entire island of Manhattan to be converted into an orbiting satellite to offset the rising tide of global warming. In space, traffic was no better, but humanity now had an extra twenty years before their fine shores were washed away by rising tides.
Anyway, the traffic was terrible. The five of them inside wasn’t helping. Keith unbuckled his seat belt and leaned out the FEZ Mobile’s window, glancing up at the massive glass dome that focused the sun’s rays like a magnifying glass.
“Why aren’t we moving?” Rob said.
“Traffic.” N said, his stomach choked with a box and a half of dozens no one else wanted.
“So, let’s fix that.” Rob stepped out of the FEZ Mobile and pushed against the car next to them. The driver inside, cradling a new cup of coffee, rolled down his window.
“Don’t do it!” The driver said.
With a shove, the car suddenly tilted over and began to float upward. He knelt down and pushed the car upward toward the sky and it floated away toward the dome as Space Manhattan’s micro gravity met its limits.
“You know we can get ticketed for that.” Kelly said.
“Did coffee dude have an appointment? No. We do.” Rob proceeded to the next car.
‘Hey, don’t do that.” Drivers yelled at Rob as he lifted more cars up into the air, clearing a path.
“Well, he’s getting it done.” Johnny said.