However, for the enjoyment of those recovering from the ordeal, here's my Desert Bus fanfic in full. So, enjoy, and good luck getting out of the insomnia and hallucinations phase.
To whom it may concern,
I am delighted to hear your concerns of me, so little do I hear them such, and your kind words, with such verbosity, are graceful in my ears.
I am a serial, you know? Of course, you know. It is somewhat difficult to miss, I admit. Heh.
All serials have their territories, I have mine. It stretches eight hours at top speed on the old girl. From shiny city to dusty desert, no-one ever goes there. Simply put, all anyone does there is “pass”.
People don’t like to stick around long there; they hate to see me stop. Always making me keep on going, bribing me if they must. Another hour, another bribe, another victim sitting pretty in the back.
I do love the honesty of my pretties. So willingly do they hitch a ride with me, so calm. Some are a bit…nervous, I think, but they come along like the others. People hate to see me stop, but like filthy silent voyeurs they love to watch me go. Soon enough, they all come along for a ride with me.
People don’t like to stick around long here, it’s my territory. And not much stays here for long. Just dust, and bushes, and dirt, and bugs. Well…not too many bugs anymore. Heh.
No-one ever finds them, so I’ve no worry for you reading this. No-one likes to stick around long here, but occasionally folks do wonder why people keep hitching rides with me. It’s so difficult to miss, I admit.
No matter, no-one ever gets found after I’m finished with them. It’s a long walk back, but the people keep me pretty, keep the old girl running. ‘cept of course when she don’t run, had a few wild nights I admit. Who hasn’t? It’s a long trip, you’ve always got to keep yourself…entertained.
So meet the tow truck guy a bit, filthy voyeur that he is. Caught me with the pretties in the back a few times too. Heh. They pay me to keep moving, and I pay him to shut his filthy mouth and get the old girl running again, and soon enough he shuts up and she gets running.
I hear you’re going on a trip, probably left already by the time this reaches you. Good, I do prefer to spout my little rants to folks in person, gives it a nice personal touch.
See, all the serials have got this little “pattern”, their “modus operandi” I think it’s called. Some go quick, some go slow, and some, like me, go very, very, slow. Four hours, six? Heh. I love to hear the pretties in the back squeak and squeal. They make such lovely noises. And I love to have my fun in the old girl.
Well, looks like I’m coming to another bus stop. Heh. No-one ever gets on at them, people don’t like to stick around here long. I ain’t stopping, they pay me to keep going.
Worked it out yet? Surprised? No, I expect not, it is somewhat difficult to miss…
I am the bus driver. I run the Desert Bus.
And no-one, ever, gets off.