Large PrintHandheldAudioRating
using
 paypal
Twisting The Hellmouth Crossing Over Awards - Results
Is your email address still valid?

“Seriously, how the…#@%&?!?!?!”

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking
Story

Summary: Two half high, exhausted and very hungry friends end up…well, not exactly where they expected…

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Movies > Harold and KumaryakobaFR1811,881251,29719 May 0919 May 09Yes
Summery: Two half high, exhausted and very hungry friends end up…well, not exactly where they expected…
Disclaimer: Harold Lee and Kumar Patel belong to Danny Leiner, Jon Hurwitz and Warner Bros. Sunnydale, it’s landscape and food-chains, and Buffy summers belong to Joss Whedon and his minions. This is merely comical string pulling, and no financial windfall shall be made of this fictional endeavor.




Kumar Patel pushed the sun visor down and blinked the water from his eyes, trying to keep the truck steady. The sun was setting again, and miraculously, he still felt wide-awake. He wasn’t sure how many hours he had been driving; he just knew that it felt like a really long time. He glanced over to the passenger seat. Roldie was still passed out cold, his mouth hanging open in a stupid half grin. A thin line of saliva was whipping across his cheek from the cranked air-conditioning. Kumar had a sudden urge wake him up with a nut-punch. Ha-HAAA. That would be so jokes. Turning his eyes back to the highway, he jerked back into the right lane.

Whoa. Keep it cool Patel. Could be cops around.

His eyes darted to the rearview. No one else was even on the road. He wondered how long ago they had lost that cop. Must have lost him somewhere along all those side roads…or maybe through the cow fields. Kumar frowned. Yeah…probably through the cow fields.

The whole last twenty-four hours just seemed like a blur of driving and stopping to gas up. He had been so paranoid from the weed, he hadn’t even bothered to follow any particular direction. It was just drive-and-gas up, drive-and-gas up. Harold had been out of it the whole time. Now that the high was finally starting to wear down, the cannabis induced paranoia was gradually giving way to the familiar fire that had pushed them into this crazy misadventure in the first place…hunger. He was famished -no, starving!

Harold groaned beside him. ah, Sleeping beauty awakens.

Taking a last sip of his millionth Redbull, Kumar chucked the empty can at his friend’s forehead.

“Rise and shine Roldie! We’re all clear of the 5-O!” He pumped his arm up and down.

“UHURUUU!!! Black and Brown POWER!!!”

Harold Lee flinched at the excessive volume and pressed a hand to his ringing ear. Fuck, Kumar!

“Yeah, right,” He croaked dryly. “We’re all clear, except we broke out from a police station and are now driving a stolen vehicle.

“Ha. And who’s brilliant plan was that, Mr. Lee?”

Harold snorted with a stretch of his arms and looked out the window at the darkening landscape.

It looked…different somehow.

“Kumar. Where the hell are we?”

Kumar Shrugged. “I really have no idea. I’ve been driving around randomly for over a whole day, and I don’t even feel it.

He grinned.

“Redbull must have some seriously fucked up shit in it.”

Harold clasped his forehead in his hands. His headache was quickly returning.

“Ok, we should really stop somewhere and find out where we are.”

Kumar nodded. “No probs. Next place that’s open I’ll pull in.”

The highway merged into a two-lane, and soon they began passing industrial complexes and looming warehouses. Some of them looked pretty abandoned and creepy. Kumar wondered if they had somehow ended up somewhere near Pittsburgh. He shuddered as they passed a field of rusted out trailers, suddenly reminded of Freakshow and his smoking hot but totally messed up wife.

Don’t think of Roldie and Freakshow naked-don’t think of Roldie and Freakshow naked…ghuh…too late…

Now He couldn’t even look at him all over again...

The warehouses gave way to unlit gas stations and darkened farmhouses. The whole place looked like a ghost town. If it wasn't for the occasional operating traffic light, Kumar was pretty sure it would be.

Harold coughed nervously. “Hey man, I’m getting some pretty creepy ‘children of the corn' vibes right now. Don’t stop anywhere until we reach actual civilization.”

Kumar nodded grimly. “Yeah…deal.”


Eventually they began passing more urban landscape; outlet stores, strip-malls and plazas lined the road, but there still wasn’t a soul in sight. Then, up ahead, the neon red outline of a hamburger flashed reassuringly. Fast food! and hell yes, it was open!

Kumar pulled in, looking hopefully through the big glass windows. The place was empty, but the lights were all on, and a blonde was slouched behind the counter.

Harold looked up at the sign, then over at Kumar. He had that blank pissed off stare that he always made right before he was about to bitch.

aaand...

"Are you serious? The Doublemeat Palace? Do I even have to say out loud to you what that sounds like?"

Kumar held his hands up defensively. "Hey man, you wanted civilization, and I think a burger joint suffices. Secondly, that hot blonde girl in there doesn't exactly look like a pick-axe wielding psycho or something, so score. And finally, Do you remember what tonight's -well, yesterday night's- whole purpose was? I'm still fucking famished Roldie! Now this place is probably no White Castle, but Shit! I'm hungry enough to eat anything...even Doublemeat..."

They both looked at each other before bursting into snorts of laughter.


"-Ah haha ha...they- they might as well have called it 'cockmeat palace!' bahaha!"

Harold's laughter died down, a dark look crossing his face. "Hey man, that's not funny. I heard they force them to eat that shit at Abu-Ghairab and Gitmo."

He shuddered.

Kumar wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes.

"Come on Roldie, lets get some meat and -ha-d-directions the hell back home."

* * *

Buffy gave an aggravated sigh, looking at the clock on the wall. Another night, and I have to work at shitty Doublemeat Palace. Not like anyone even eats out at night in this town...

Well, she amended, not anyone human anyways.

She glanced out the storefront at the darkened streets. She knew that Spike was probably lurking out there somewhere, being all weird and stalkerish. It was annoying, but least he kept the vamps and other creepy-crawlies away...

Roger lumbered up from the empty grill, his Doublemeat visor and drive-thru headgear on crooked -making him look even more pathetic and weird than usual. He leaned heavily against the counter, giving her a lecherous, braces-filled smile and a dirty wink. Buffy barely supressed a dry-heave, hoping he wasn't about to ask her out again. It had almost become a weekly occurrence every time they shared night shifts, and she really wasn't in the mood right now. or ever. gross.

“Heyyy...Bufffy.”

He drew out her name, making it sound all sleazy. Buffy grimaced and glared forward while he continued to stare at her.

Finally she couldn't take the weird silence. Maybe he'd get the hint from her tone of voice.

“hi Roger.”

“So Buffy, you never told me where you live…”

His words trailed off as a big orange Ford Bronco pulled into the parking lot, momentarily flashing them with the high-beams before shutting off.

Buffy’s eyebrows rose. no way! Actual customers? She squinted -with helpful slayer vision- down at the truck's license. New York plates. Huh.

Two guys got out and came into the restaurant, walking up to the front. They reaked of weed.

Roger was openly staring at them like they were martians.

Buffy rolled her eyes at his dumbfounded reaction. Sure Sunnydale was like super white-town, but come-on...

She turned to the customers. "Welcome to Doublemeat Palace, what can I get you?"

Kumar choked back a laugh. "Yeah, uh, we'll order in a sec, but could you tell us where exactly this is? We're kinda' lost."

"Yeah," Harold nodded, "We want to get back to New York City."

He glanced from the hot but dejected looking blonde to the bulky, pimple-riddled caveman holding the spatula, who was giving Kumar a hard look.

Harold recognized that look.

"Ummm..." The Blonde started.

The Caveman scratched his rashy face and snorted dismissively before turning and shuffling back to the grill.

"Dumb fucking immigrants..." He muttered audibly.

Kumar opened his mouth, his eyes narrowing.

Harold's cheek twitched.


Before ether of them could speak, the little blonde girl rounded on her co-worker, unleashing a string of insults and obscenities that made even Kumar blink in surprise. The caveman went ridged, then stormed out of sight.

Buffy blew out a deep breath, closing her eyes. Wow. She had wanted to just tell him off like that for weeks now. It actually did feel as satisfying as she had hoped.

Turning back to the stunned customers, she flashed a bright smile.

"Well, you can take the road you were just on all the way to TownLine. Take that til' you see the sign for Sunnydale airport. I think you can register and buy tickets at the machine in the terminal."

The two guys looked at her blankly, then at each other.

"Uh...Sorry," Kumar squinted at her nametag. "Buffy...? Um, We just want like directions to the main highway back to New York. We can drive back."

She looked at them incredulously.

"From California?"

Kumar cocked his head to the side, uncomprehending.

Beside him, Harold made a choking sound. Kumar cupped his chin in his hand, thinking.

"California? what is that, like the name of this town?"

"No. The name of this town is Sunnydale. The state you are in: It's California."

Harold's eye spasmed with barely contained fury. Turning to look at the absolute idiot beside him, he clenched his trembling fists, barely resisting the urge to reach out and strangle.

"WHAT. THE. FUCK. KUMAR!!! You-GAH!!"

His long awaited blow-up was cut short as the acne-coated caveman charged in from the back -his eyes wild, foam pouring from his mouth- wielding a pick-axe over his head.

“You fucking bitch! I’m gonna’ kill you! I'll kill you all-”

Almost faster then ether Kumar or Harold could follow, The blonde lashed out with a lightening kick, catching him square in the gut and sending him flying -literally, through the air- back into a wall. His head cracked loudly against the drive-thru window, and he slid to the floor with a groan.

Buffy brushed her apron and turned to face the two guys. Their eyes were even wider than before.

Kumar felt his face break into a ridiculous grin. He was pretty sure he had never seen anything cooler in his entire life.
Beside him, Harold's jaw had gone completely slack.

"Well..." Kumar finally recovered. "At least since now we know where we are, we should probly grab something to eat...?"

Buffy jerked her thumb back at the unconscious, slumped form lying behind her, giving an apologetic shrug. Harold could see blood slowly pooling beneath the man's matted head of hair.

“Sorry guys. Looks like we’re out of a grill-man for the night. Guess you’ll have to eat somewhere else…not sure if anywhere else in Sunnydale will be open...”

She bit her lip, thinking.

“Oh! I know! There’s a really good White Castle just outside of LA. It’s an hour and a half drive from here, but it would get you right onto the interstate...?"

Kumar pumped a fist in the air, flashing his friend a look of triumph.

“Alright Roldie! Lets go get us some fuckin’ White Castle!”



After a long moment, Harold twitched, turned, and slapped Kumar full in the face.

The End

You have reached the end of "“Seriously, how the…#@%&?!?!?!”". This story is complete.

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking