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Story Notes:
Disclaimer: Scarecrow and Mrs. King and its characters belong to WB and Shoot the Moon Productions. No infringement is intended. This is written for entertainment purposes only. Please do not redistribute or reproduce this story without my permission.

Note: This story takes place during the episode “Filming Raul.”

Thanks: Rita and Miss Edna, you make my stories readable by catching all my grammar and other errors. A special thanks to Rita who came up with the title.
Hazardous Duty

It started out as a normal spring day. My lovely owner, Amanda, drove me along the streets of D. C. to her job. I love cruising the roads and seeing all the monuments; I’m getting a good education about the history of this country. Now, from time to time, this job of hers has been a bit rough on me, but at least whatever damage I’ve sustained has been quickly fixed.

I sometimes wish for the good old days--when the grocery store, dry cleaner, a fast food restaurant, a P.T.A. meeting, and the mall were the only places we went. I have to admit, though, some places she takes me now are quite exciting. Why, just the other day she . . .

I’m sorry, I’ve strayed off topic. Now where was I?

Oh, yes. Amanda had just driven us into the parking lot. She paused at the booth and showed a man her ID. Then she parked next to the beautiful silver Porsche that I’ve been seeing a lot these past months. A fine piece of machinery. So sleek. So shiny. And the man who drives this sweet hunk of metal, I have to say, is as gorgeous as his vehicle. However, I do wonder how he’s able to cram his long body into that small car.

I digress again. Thoughts of the man and his car always make me a little flustered. Now on with my story.

Amanda had just gotten out, when in my taillights, I saw another car come screeching around the little booth and tear into the parking lot. The maniac misjudged the parking space next to me and hit me.

Me!

Ouch!

He sideswiped me and smashed my right taillight. The nerve of him. I almost blared my horn at him, but I restrained myself. Getting all in a huff is not dignified. Besides, Amanda was doing a fine job of putting him in his place.

She yelled “Oh My Gosh” several times. I know that means she’s upset and flustered. The maniac said the damage didn’t look too bad.

Not bad? Was he insane?

My poor light was smashed to smithereens. Then my poor battered rear bumper fell to the pavement. I felt so vulnerable without it.

The man and Amanda continued to speak. Then he jumped into his car and pulled out.

He hit me.

Again.

Twice, within minutes.

Double ouch!

He’s insane, I say. If I’d had the number of the local nuthouse, I’d have called them and gotten him picked up. He needs to be in a straitjacket. Or maybe he needs to be in jail. He does not need to be on the road hurting unsuspecting, innocent cars.

My poor rear end will never be the same. I hope Amanda will find him and make him pay. Big. Oh, dear. I’m digressing again.

I sat in the parking lot nursing my wounds for a large part of the day. Then, out of nowhere, a strange man opened my passenger door and rifled my glove box. His cold fingers made my sheet metal crawl. I felt so violated. Thankfully, that young man who works in the booth confronted him. Something bad happened though. From out of the corner of my one good taillight, I saw the slimy man--the one who had put his dirty hands on me--and another man put that poor boy in the trunk of a car.

I hope someone finds him soon. I know he had enough air, but it couldn’t have been comfortable back there with the spare tire.

So it’s been an unsettling day for me, but we’re back home now. Amanda parked me in the driveway. Phillip and Jamie came home and didn’t even notice what had happened to me. They just skateboarded past me, hollering back and forth at each other.

Just when I’d finally calmed down after my misfortune and thought I might get a good night’s sleep, Amanda ran down the driveway and hopped into me. Doesn’t look like sleep is in my future. She quickly started my engine and drove off down the street. She stopped and parked me between a brown van and the silver Porsche.

The sexy man who owns the Porsche got into my passenger seat. They talked about a film cassette and having to throw it out a window. Amanda wanted to do it because she thought she could and it’d be a waste of money to have someone impersonate her. The man wouldn’t let her, and they sat silently for a few moments.

My mind wandered, and I was trying to ascertain what was happening in the van behind me. There was movement and more than a few people inside.

I suddenly realized that Amanda and the sexy guy were talking again. What’s this they’re saying? She’ll be staying with him until she gets her car back? I don’t understand.

Where was I going?

Why won’t Amanda coming with me?

I’ve never been without her.

I tried to calm myself. I’m sure nothing bad will happen.

I’ve already been struck twice today.

I’ve had my share of damage.

Haven’t I?

Dang it! While I was worrying over my immediate future, they’d started talking about something else. I had to concentrate to pick up the conversation again. Amanda was saying that her mother thinks she’s having a clandestine love affair.

HA! No way, I say. That’s not Amanda. She’d recently dumped that dull weatherman. Don. Dan. I can never remember his name. I’m glad he’s no longer in her life. I knew from the start that he wasn’t right for her. He drove a prissy car, not a man’s car. Now tell me, what car doesn’t enjoy a good rain shower? Oh, no, he couldn’t let his darling get wet.

Well, I’d rather get caught in a storm than go to one of those car washes. They hurt. Those bristles get into places that should never be touched. Plus, delicate paint can be scratched.

I know Amanda’s waiting for a knight in shining armor to whisk her off her feet. I wonder if her sexy passenger could be a contender for the knight’s role.

Speaking of Dotty West, she keeps telling Amanda she wants to learn how to drive. Amanda has offered to teach her, but she says she doesn’t want to pick up any bad habits.

Amanda and bad habits. Those words don’t belong in a sentence together. She always wears her seatbelt and drives at the posted speed limits.

Okay, so she hasn’t exactly been following that second one a lot recently. But she’s always buckled in. For some reason, the thought of Dotty driving scares my battery to death.

In my review mirror, I could see headlights approaching. Looked like a cop car was approaching. They’re vigilant about keeping the neighborhood safe, and I, for one, am grateful. Suddenly the sexy man wrapped his arm around Amanda’s shoulders and pulled her to him in an embrace.

Yes, I know his name is Lee, but I prefer to call him sexy man. I just like the sound of that better. So shoot me.

No, don’t do that. I was just joking about the shooting part.

He whispered, “There’s a local patrol car passing. This looks much more natural.”

Her hand clutched at his sweater, then moved up to caress his cheek. “Oh, yeah, it’s much more natural,” she whispered back. Her finger almost glided over his lips.

I’m silently screaming at them to kiss. I knew they both wanted to. I could tell by the way that they’re acting. Come on, you two! Make it real for the passing cop.

Too late. He’d gone by in a flash and the sprung apart, both a bit flustered, I might add.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Someone knocked on my window. Amanda got out and traded jackets with this strange woman.

Okay, well, she’s not exactly strange. I have seen her around the parking lot at Amanda’s work.

The woman got into my driver’s seat, and I almost screamed. In the mirror, all I could see were hair curlers and a scarf.

What was she trying to do, make believe she’s Amanda? Amanda would never wear curlers in public. She might wear a nightgown under her coat. But that’s another story. All I can say is, this woman had better treat me with respect.

I didn’t know where we were going. This stranger kept mumbling that she hoped no one sees her. Or worse, recognized her. I would’ve loved to stall out. Except I had a feeling that this journey was important. That someone was depending on me.

We drove slowly through a lumberyard. The woman rolled down my window and tossed a cassette out. As she drove out of the area, I heard gunshots.

Oh My Gosh! I’m glad they weren’t firing at me.

Two weeks later.

My rear bumper is shiny and new. My taillight is fixed, and I can see perfectly again. It’s night now, and the house is quiet. I was about ready to call it a night when sexy man crept around the corner of the garage. He watched the house for a while, and then skulked back into the shadows. He does that a lot. Sometimes Amanda will come outside and join him. Mostly, he sneaks through the bushes and just stares at the house. I think he’s making sure all is well inside. When he’s satisfied nothing is wrong, he leaves.

He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s Amanda’s knight in shining armor. One day he’ll come to that realization, and I hope I’m around to see it.


The End
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