<Spinner_8> So, like, what are people supposed to do on road trips?
<Spinner_8> I never saw the movie, so.
<Sardius> I saw it, but I can't remember anything about it.
<Sardius> Anyway, I think we're supposed to get in zany misadventures, or something.
<Sardius> ...not much zaniness going on here, though.

Night falls.  This does nothing to deter Spinner's lead foot, though.  We fly down highways and side roads for hours.  I look at the car's clock.  11:00 PM.

Then I see a sign that shows the current time and temperature.  10:00 PM, it says.

<Sardius> Dude, turn back your clock. Sign says it's 10:00.
<Spinner_8> We're already in mountain time?
<Spinner_8> Well, okay.
* Spinner_8 sets the clock back an hour.

Oh, if only we knew that time would soon have no meaning.

So we drive and then

<Spinner_8> Look, Pikachu!
<Sardius> WHERE

...now, I wish I could properly emulate in text the pure emotion and excitedness I displayed with that "WHERE," but I can't.  It's one of those "you had to be there" things.  Nevertheless, the sheer enthusiasm I put into that word immediately caused Spinner and I to start laughing hysterically.  It was just such an inappropriate reaction, especially considering that I have no particular attachment to Pikachu or even Pokemon in general.  Yet, I expressed that "WHERE" with such loud, childlike enthusiasm...and I have no idea why.  I just can't explain it.

Anyway, Spinner had apparently seen a road sign pointing to some location named Pikachu.  I called him a fucking liar, and cursed him for getting my inexplicable hopes up in such a way.  And the incident was soon forgotten.

We drive for another hour or so.  Spinner says he's hungry.  We spot an Arby's just off the highway.

<Spinner_8> Ooh, Arby's.
<Sardius> Okay, let's go.
<Sardius> "I'm so hungry, I could eat at Arby's!"
<Spinner_8> What the fuck are you talking about? Arby's is cool!
<Sardius> Oh, I agree, it's just that...eh, nevermind.

I hate it when my references go unappreciated.  Anyway, we go into Arby's.  Well, actually, we enter into a gas station, which is *attached* to an Arby's.  Fucking awesome.  Spinner first pumps some gas - using my money, again - then we decide to get us some motherfuckin' Arby's all up in this shit.

Spinner orders.  His food comes immediately.  I order.  I have to wait by the counter for five minutes like some goon.  Crap.  They must've had to cook some more curly fries for me, or something.

I find Spinner in a corner booth, near a window.  The booth - get this - has a PHONE attached to it.

<Spinner_8> Dude, look - there's a PHONE here.
<Sardius> ...awesome.

However, there's not much distance between the booth's other chair and the wall.  This is a problem.

<Sardius> I can't squeeze in there. Look, I'll sit over here.
<Spinner_8> But...but...I want to sit in the booth with a phone!
<Sardius> So sit there. You don't have to sit near me.
<Sardius> Just...oh forget it! I hope you're happy with your...PHONE.
<Spinner_8> Rrgh.
* Spinner_8 gets up and sits at the non-phone enhanced table with Sardius

Spinner's finished with his meal by the time I'm about halfway through mine.  And I'm not going to rush just for him.  Arby's Roast Beef'n Cheddar sandwiches need to be savored.  So for a change, I'll make Spinner watch ME eat.  I'm not going to imitate his previous theatrics, though.

<Spinner_8> You know, these straws really suck.
<Sardius> Really? My straw is fine.
<Sardius> Wait.
<Sardius> Man, that's one of those little red coffee straws you got.
<Sardius> The real straws were over there.
<Spinner_8> Well, shit.

It was pretty great watching Spinner trying to finish off a large-sized drink with a coffee straw, though.  Especially before he mentioned anything about it.

Anyway, I finish my meal - which is DELICIOUS, by the way, as typical of Arby's - and we go.  Well, first I visit the bathroom.  To pee.

The bathroom is really nice, with several amenities that you usually don't find in bathrooms.  It's really clean, too.  What struck me was that the stall I used had a copy of "Trucker's Monthly" on top of the toilet paper roll.  Seeing as how this place is a bit of a truck stop, I thought it was really considerate of someone to leave that there.

Um.

So, I step out of the bathroom and meet up with Spinner, who is browsing through the gas station portion of the establishment.  As he informs me, this is no regular gas station.

<Spinner_8> Look at the shit they have here.
<Spinner_8> Books on tape...maps for every state...
<Spinner_8> Fucking TVs!
<Spinner_8> Check it out, they even sell PS2s here!
<Sardius> Wow, $219.
<Sardius> Only $20 more than the manufacturer's suggested retail price!
<Sardius> Nice selection of games, too.
<Spinner_8> Yeah, there must be, like, three here...no wait, four!
<Sardius> Amazing.
<Sardius> All Greatest Hits titles, too.

Most of our trip went this way, by the way.  Every part that I skip over from this point on pretty much entirely consists of me and Spinner brutally and often unfairly berating someone or something with relentless sarcasm.  We're dicks, see.

<Spinner_8> You know what gets me, though.
<Spinner_8> That gas station had *everything*, right?
<Spinner_8> Well, not quite.
<Spinner_8> They didn't have any porn.
<Sardius> What? You're kidding.
<Spinner_8> Nope, I looked.
<Sardius> Well damn.
<Sardius> Maybe it's a fluke.
<Spinner_8> I hope so, because I could really use some porn right now.

Right.  Anyway, we leave, and we drive for another long while.  I check the clock.  12:00 AM.  Whee.

Wait, what does that sign say?

...no way.

...no.

<Sardius> Maybe I'm going crazy, but I think that sign said that it's 11:00.
<Spinner_8> Nah, can't be. We just set it back a little while ago, remember?
<Sardius> Well, yeah, but...eh. Yeah.

After a bit, we pull over to another gas station.  We fill up.  It's at this point when sleepiness starts to take hold of me.

<Sardius> Oh, wait, ask that lady behind the counter what time it is.
<Spinner_8> You ask her.
<Sardius> ...no, I'm too tired to form a sentence right now. You go ahead.

So he asks.

<Spinner_8> I guess that sign back there was right. It's a little bit after 11:00.
<Sardius> But...
<Spinner_8> I know. I know. But it's 11:00.

...okay.  I guess it's possible that part of New Mexico is located in the Pacific time zone.

Wait, no it's not.  What the fuck is going on here?

Better not question it.

Spinner is about to leave the gas station when I spot it.

<Sardius> Dude...I'm fascinated by this.
<Spinner_8> What?
<Spinner_8> ...oh!

It's...I don't know what it is.  The package advertises it as a "SPINNER," whatever that is.  This "SPINNER" is painted to look like an 8-ball.  And the juxtaposition of the whole thing, when it's glanced at, causes the eye to read "SPINNER 8."

<Spinner_8> It's...it's...
<Sardius> Mind blowing?
<Spinner_8> Yes. How much is it?
<Spinner_8> $15.99?  Fuck that.

Okay.  No awesomely coincidental mystery namesake object is worth that much.  Let's go.

<Spinner_8> You know what?
<Spinner_8> There was no porn there, either.
<Sardius> Huh. How weird.
<Spinner_8> There weren't *any* magazines there, either.
<Sardius> Scary.

More driving.

I'm really starting to feel the effects of sleepiness now.  I mean, it's what, 3:00, Texas time?  But the clock says 1:00...

<Sardius> ...oh no.
<Sardius> Oh no no no.
<Spinner_8> What?
<Sardius> I just saw another sign with the current time.
<Sardius> ...set the clock back again, man.
<Spinner_8> WHAT?

Yes, time had reversed itself yet again.  This time, without any kind of explanation.  There could be no excuse this time.

Thus marked our entrance into the Twilight Zone.

<Sardius> Well, we need some new music.
<Spinner_8> Hmm...put on Paris Combo.
<Spinner_8> You probably won't like it, but...
<Sardius> Eh, I'll give it a chance.

It was French music.  Interesting choice, there.  It sets quite the mood.

And so began our descent into hell.

...

We fill up at another gas station.

<Spinner_8> GOD FUCKING DAMMIT
<Spinner_8> NO PORN THERE, EITHER
<Sardius> Ridiculous.
<Sardius> I mean, EVERY gas station in Texas has porn in it.
<Spinner_8> I know!
<Spinner_8> It's not just porn, either. There's no *magazines* at all in these New Mexico gas stations!
<Spinner_8> I mean, fuck, they have gas stations here that sell TVs, and PS2s, and books on tape...
<Spinner_8> BUT. NO. PORN.
<Sardius> No reading material whatsoever, actually.
<Sardius> I guess New Mexicans must be illiterate or something.
<Sardius> You know, you should complain to someone about that.
<Sardius> I think you have a legitimate complaint, there.
<Spinner_8> Yeah...
<Spinner_8> But, like, who would I complain to? And how?
<Spinner_8> Who would I write a letter to if nobody in this fucking state can read?
<Sardius> ...maybe you could submit your complaint via book on tape.

Drive.  More.

Hey, "Now Entering Arizona."  Big fucking fuck fuck.

You know, Spinner, I

<Spinner_8> Look, Pikachu!
<Sardius> WHERE
<Spinner_8> THERE

I saw the sign.  It opened up my eyes.

<Spinner_8> See, Pikachu!
<Sardius> WOW
<Sardius> No, wait, it says Picacho, not Pikachu.
<Sardius> Asshole.
<Spinner_8> Well, close enough.

Yep, so that explains it.  Earlier, we had passed by Picacho Creek or something (which elicited that WHERE reaction that I cannot ever hope to duplicate), and here we are about a mile from the town of Picacho.

<Spinner_8> ...what the hell, let's go to Picacho.
<Sardius> Yeah, fuck Las Vegas. Picacho is where it's at.
* Spinner_8 takes the next exit into Picacho
<Sardius> Holy shit, you're serious.

So there we are.  About 2:00 or 3:00...ah, hell, who knows what time it actually was.  We had no way of knowing for sure.  Anyway, there we are, in the dead of night, suffering from serious sleep deprivation, listening to some French music CD that has looped over and over for hours, and suddenly deciding to visit a town called Picacho.

It takes us about ten seconds to drive through.

<Spinner_8> Well, that was disappointing.
<Sardius> FUCK YOU, PICACHO

The town was completely dark.  It had a hotel, a gas station, and...

<Spinner_8> "Restaurant"
<Spinner_8> That's what the sign said.
<Sardius> Hah, love it.
<Sardius> Very appropriate.
<Spinner_8> Yeah, there's no mistaking what kind of establishment that is, with a name like that.
<Sardius> Yep.
<Spinner_8> We're a restaurant, we have food.
<Sardius> Yuh-huh.
<Sardius> Food for eating, restaurant is good.
* a semi-long period of time passes.
<Sardius> Holy shit, what did I just say?
<Spinner_8> I dunno, I stopped paying attention to everything you've been saying about a hundred miles back.

...but that's it.  I think there may have been maybe two or three other buildings besides the hotel, the gas station, and Restaurant.  It sucked.  But, it was named Picacho, so it was redeemed.  It still sucked, though.

Later on, we made up a story - a legend, if you will - to better explain Picacho.  See, the town, in our minds, was inhabited solely by a fellowship of electric mice.  They weren't a race of Nintendo-licensed Pikachu, though.  These were Picacho - cheap knockoffs manufactured by Sachen.  These mice were of such low quality, though, that Sachen had to dump them all off in some abandoned Arizona town, in order to cut their losses.  To this day, a weary traveler can enter the Picacho inn and be greeted with a cheery cry of "PICACHO!" from the town's group of voltage-enhanced rats.  These friendly creatures will allow anyone free use of their services.  Any mention of their hated licensed rivals - the Pikachu - though, would be met with swift electric vengeance.

Yes, by this point, we were extremely fucking tired.  The clock read 3:00 or so, but since time had ceased to have any meaning, we didn't know how long we had gone without sleep.

After awhile, we get to Phoenix.  Hoo fucking ray.  Shortly after we enter the city, a sign indicates that - to no big surprise by now - time had again receded by an hour.  Set that clock back again, Spinner.  This is going to be one long night.

We go to another gas station.

<Spinner_8> No porn.
<Spinner_8> But at least they had *some* magazines there.
<Spinner_8> It's an improvement. I'm optimistic.
<Spinner_8> ...I'm not usually this horny, you know.

So, we drive some more, and

<Spinner_8> CIRCLE K!
<Sardius> DUDE

We spot a Circle K on the side of the road, just as we pass it by.

<Spinner_8> I'm going back.

We turn around, because you can't pass up a Circle K.

<Spinner_8> I didn't even know that Circle K's existed!
<Spinner_8> I thought that was just something they made up for Bill & Ted.
<Sardius> What's that line? "Something strange is..."
<Spinner_8> "Strange things are afoot at the Circle K."
<Spinner_8> Yes, I've seen that movie more times than I'll ever admit.
<Sardius> But you've seriously never seen a real Circle K?
<Spinner_8> Nope.
<Sardius> Well, hell man, you're missing out.

We're in the parking lot.

<Spinner_8> I don't know why I'm doing this. We don't even need gas.
<Spinner_8> Well, I guess I could use a Dr Pepper.
<Spinner_8> Oh, and I still need some porn.
<Spinner_8> There's got to be some here.
<Spinner_8> This is Circle K.
<Spinner_8> There's got to be porn at the Circle K. There has to be.
<Sardius> ...I'll wait in the car.
<Sardius> Um, good luck, or something.

I wait.  Through the store's windows, I see Spinner looking around.  Then I see him get agitated.  Then I see him pay for a Dr Pepper and leave.

<Spinner_8> Okay, Circle K fucking sucks.
<Spinner_8> They didn't have any porn, obviously.
<Spinner_8> And unlike the last place, they didn't have any magazines at all.
<Spinner_8> And it smelled like old vomit in there.
<Sardius> Man.  That's just sad.
<Sardius> Circle K used to be cool.
<Sardius> Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

It's around this point where I start to say pretty much anything, since I'm so sleepy.

We drive some more.  Down the streets of downtown Phoenix, or somewhere close by.

<Sardius> Ah, this must be the bad side of town.
<Sardius> The wrong side of the tracks, if you will.
<Spinner_8> Yeah.
<Spinner_8> Apparently, we're in the strip club district of town.
<Spinner_8> We've passed by like five of them already.
<Spinner_8> All next to each other on this one street.
<Sardius> Hey yeah, you're right.
<Sardius> Look at that one - "sexxxy ladys"
<Sardius> And...OH MY GOD
<Sardius> OH SHIT
<Sardius> AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
<Spinner_8> What?
<Spinner_8> Oh, Jesus.
<Spinner_8> Oh, man.
<Spinner_8> Best strip club name ever.

We had passed by a large electric sign advertising a strip club.  At first, I thought to myself, "there's no way they could get away with giving THAT name to a strip club."  It has to be some other kind of establishment.  But, after seeing a drawing of a bikini-clad woman on the side of the sign, I could come to no other conclusion.  That was the name of the place.  Someone had given this, the greatest name ever, to their strip club.  And oh, it was good.  Imagine just driving down the road - in Arizona - late at night, when all of a sudden, you're confronted with this gigantic glowing yellow sign in the air advertising...

...and just you fucking try not to tearfully thank God for being alive.  Sure, we were tired.  Sure, one of us was really horny.  Sure, we had lost all sense of time and were driving at speeds in excess of 100 miles per hour through dark, dangerous, unfamiliar territory far far far away from home all while listening to French music that was just about to loop for the seventh or eighth time.  But by God, we had chosen life and we were LIVING.

It was at this point where the evening's events, emotions, and Alaskan Bush Companies with branches in Arizona all culminated into one mass, and I at once tried to comprehend it all using a mind that I knew was sleep-deprived to an extreme degree of which I had no real gauge of.  Suddenly, I knew what had happened.  Somewhere around 2:00 that night - which about 6:00 or 7:00 AM by my internal clock, roughly - I achieved transcendence.  As Spinner continued his demonic quest to break the sound barrier, I stopped existing.  I stopped being.  I realized that none of what happened had really happened, and I was only a ghostly participant from another dimension, witnessing the greatest feelings and experiences that humanity had to offer.  The speeds at which we were going only helped me realize this, as I could feel myself drifting further and further away from reality with every 1.5-mile / minute.  Soon, I would wake up from this wonderful dream, and I would have no memory of knowing - realizing - that for one shining moment, I was existing in more than one dimension, and had transcended beyond my human form.

<Sardius> Hey, I think I stopped existing.
<Spinner_8> We should find a hotel.

But we didn't find a hotel.  Not for a long, long while.  We were still in the strip joint section of town, and Spinner decided to make one last, desperate attempt in his now-fervent Quest For Porn.

<Spinner_8> A gas station.  Yes.
<Spinner_8> In this part of town, there *has* to be porn here.
<Spinner_8> There must be.
<Sardius> ...blehful gar blah.

Of course, as per the night's events foretold, he struck out again.  No porn for him.  Poor guy.

So, we drove.  Spinner promised, as we headed down another highway, that we'd stop at the next hotel we saw.

We drove for hours.

At this point, we both knew that time was meaningless.  We knew that we had been awake for much, much longer than was healthy for normal human beings.  We knew that Paris Combo was the absolute best soundtrack for the situation, so we decided to let it loop another twelve or thirteen times.  However, up until this point, we at least had some idea of where we were going and what roads we were driving on.  This knowledge, the last of our mental reassurances, was soon stripped away from us, as well.

<Spinner_8> Where the hell are we?

This highway - a two-lane piece of completely unlit road - stretched on for miles and miles.  There were no road signs.  No exits.  And while there were mile markers, they, like time, had become strange, meaningless, and confusing to a terrifying degree.  One mile marker would read 196.  The next would read 4.  The next would read 148.  They varied in size and color, too.  This was clearly a test of sanity.  I had already failed half an hour prior.  The first few minutes into that road to hell had reduced me to a silent, frothing madman - eyes wide, head spinning, and mind reeling.  Sleep was no longer something I desired.  It seemed outside the realm of possibility at this point.  The blithe joy I had felt only a few hours prior had melted away, and I had progressed to a level even beyond transcendence.  While Spinner somehow calmly drove his way into the dark uncertainty, I was quietly appreciating the mass of wild, varied thoughts thrashing about in my head, the result of serious sleep deprivation that was by now almost certainly about to become deadly.

The French music blared on.  I started to really enjoy it.  I started to understand it.

<Spinner_8> Okay, I'm going to have to pull over.

I tried to will myself to nod, but I couldn't.

<Spinner_8> So the map says we're here, but...
<Spinner_8> Well, all right. I'll just keep driving.
<Spinner_8> ...got anymore of those Ritz S'mores?

I handed him the box.  We finished them off in seconds.  The fact that Drakee had ravaged the box before we got to it really pissed us off.  Those things were good.

After another hour, we saw light.  Oh, yes.  Good.  This...sleep now?

<Spinner_8> Good, a hotel. I'm starting to get a little sleepy here.
* Sardius' head involuntarily leans forward and drool drips onto his shirt.

Hotel.  Yes.  We pull up to the place, and head toward the front door.

It does not open.

A sign on the door says that they are closed for renovation, and they'll be open again in a week.

...

I laugh.

I laugh and laugh.

I laugh the laugh of a truly crazy person, driven to the brink of sanity by several thousand instances of fucked-up shit and French music.  I laugh long and loud.  My laugh echoes through the night.  Lights start to come on in the hotel windows.  Maybe I should stop laughing now.

We pull away.  Sleep, once a close and distinct possibility, now seems further away than ever.

We drive for a few miles.  A Best Western appears on the horizon.

...oh fate, you are so cruel.  Are you going to tease my addled mind yet again?

Apparently not.  The place is open.  We head to the front office.  An all-too-cheerful young woman greets us.  We somehow are able to indicate that we would like a room.  Yes, a double, please.  Non-smoking.  And after an interminably short credit card check and form filling out session, we are awarded with what we seek.

We go to the room.  I stumble around in a completely unintentional zombie-like shamble.  I lock the door.  I turn on the air conditioner.  I take off my shoes.  I say good night to Spinner.  I get in my bed.

I sleep.

->On to Part 4
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