The engine drones.
"And all we hear," Alex mumbles in rhythm, "Is radio ga ga... radio ga ga..."
A few strands of his blue hair flutter in the AC's wind.
"Dammit, Alex, no Queen!" Christian groans from the driver's seat.
The air conditioner hisses.
"She was black," Alex hums, "As the night..."
The wheels turn.
"Louie was whiter than white," Christian finishes.
"That's more like it," Alex smiles.
"Danger, danger, when you taste brown sugar, Louie fell in love overnight!" they both sing in tandem.
Not bothering to hide his smirk, Alex reaches for the camera he stowed under his seat. They barely get through "nothing bad, it was good" once the snap of light cuts Christian off.
"Hey!" Christian reaches over to grab the camera, swerving the car towards the shoulder as he does so. His hands snap back for course correction as soon as Alex drops the camera to his own feet.
"Fuck you, man!" Christian yells. Alex just laughs and kicks the camera back under the seat.
"You're a smug motherfucker, you know that?" Christian adds.
"Yeah, yeah, eyes on the road," Alex snickers, "Ain't I a stinker?"
"Damn right you are. Maybe I should roll the window down and get rid of what's causing that smell?" Christian shoots back.
"Yeah, maybe," Alex sighs, reclining his seat, "Then I'll finally be able to stretch these wings out. How long's it been, four hours?"
Christian checks his watch. "Two and a half."
"Christ!" Alex pulls his leg back and stomps on the glove compartment, "Why couldn't Death just drop us off right there? Why'd he have us driving cross-country to off six guys across four states?"
"You're the one who said he likes long road trips," Christian says, pointing at Alex.
"...as long as I play the music, and I told him that!" Alex points back, "Besides, isn't this guy an all-powerful archangel? Why can't he just teleport us place to place instead of putting us on this Mickey Mouse shit?"
"Why don't you just ask him once we're done?" Christian sighs.
"Mm," Alex grumbles, "Speaking of, when are you gonna let me take over the speaker?"
"I told you already, it's broken."
"Bullshit, it was working fine this morning. You know what I think? I think you're just saying shit to me to keep me from playing music."
"Bitch, I asked you to skip one-"
"Two!" Alex raised two fingers, "Two songs! Both favorites of mine!"
"Look, just..." Christian pauses to fish an aux cable from the car door's storage box and tosses it over, "Just test it for yourself and I'll say I told you so."
"Myah, 'I told you so,'" Alex mocks as he sits up and plugs the chord into his mp3 player. Sure enough, as he scrolls down to Underworld's "Jumbo" and presses play, nothing comes from the speakers. Not even a crackle.
"The fuck?" Alex fiddles with the soundsystem's controls, "There's no fucking way!"
"I told you so," Christian repeats himself, enunciating each word.
"I can't believe it, you fucked with the deck!" Alex says, slapping Christian on the shoulder.
"The f-? No, asshole, the damn thing stopped playing on its own!" Christian says with a punch to Alex's arm. The car swerves again, and Christian has to lean in to pull it back to the lane's center.
"Eyes ahead!" Alex sighs.
The pavement hums.
"That's Exit 18 upthere," Christian points out, "We'll take this to that redneck's gas station, blast his head off, then fuck up the next guy."
"Glad to be riding with a grade-A navigator," Alex says with only a hint of sarcasm.
"Mm-hm," Christian hums. At this point, he's dedicated his brainpower to driving and ignoring Alex's half-baked quips. All he really catches are some vague bitchings about the radio and the US court's decision on Napster, not to mention some other shit about iTunes. Whatever, doesn't matter. After twenty or so minutes of trekking a maze of cracked pavement, Christian finally sees the redneck gas station in the distance. He eases into the brakes right away and turns to pull over.
"Hey, why've we stopped?" Alex asks.
"Alex, I'm gonna shoot Whiteboy over there with these iron sights," Christian turns around and grabs his Winchester from the backseat, "If I get it in one shot, will you shut the fuck up until we get to the next guy?"
Alex pauses for a moment to chew his lip.
"Yeah, fuck it, why not?" he answers.
Without a word, Christian opens the sunroof and steps onto the center console. He brings his rifle up through the sunroof and takes aim down the barrel. In less than a second, the gun erupts. Glass shatters and, even with his naked eyes, Alex can see the split-open skull of some poor fucker behind the counter.
As promised, he stays silent.