Challenge #00808-B077: What's Your Emergency?

Okay, let me see if I’ve got this straight. You’re in a truck, about 500 meters in the air, with a JATO rocket duct-taped to the undercarriage.

[Name], if this was anyone but you, I’d swear this was a prank call.

I’ll never know how he did it, but Warren got hold of a JATO. I do remember how we had a barbecue to celebrate. Lots of beer and ribs and a rambling discussion about what to do with the bloody thing.

“Strap it to your truck,” said Daryl. “Fuckin’ fly to Hawaii, man.“

“Dint they do tha’ on mythbusters?” slurred Lee. He never could hold his liquor and he’d just had half a beer too many.

“No that’s genius,” crowed Lee. “They never actually did it on Mythbusters. They had replacements for a JATO, but they never actually had a fuckin’ JATO.”

“So. What? You’re gonna give it to the Mythbusters?”

“No. Dur. I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna aim my pickup at Hawaii and phone ‘em telling them the myth. Is. Confirmed.”

We laughed, and toasted the rocket, sitting under a tarp in Warren’s shed. And I honestly thought no more about it.

Warren, evidently, thought a lot about it. He made himself some wings to also strap onto his truck. And got himself a genuine army surplus cargo parachute that any idiot could use. And about a metric fuckton of bungee cord to tie it all on.

He even got hold of a life raft in case he ditched in the ocean.

Last I heard? He was checking Google Earth to see which roads pointed to Hawaii and how smooth they were.

I expected it to fizzle out at any of those stages, but Warren was determined to get into the Jackass Hall of Fame or something.

And then came the phone call.

“I phoned ‘em as I passed the coast,” Warren yelled over the background roar. “GUESS WHERE I’M CALLING FROM?”

I turned on CNN. Say what you might about their politics, but they’re pretty on the ball about showing people doing stupid-ass things. Yup. They were covering a runaway rocket truck. Footage was shaky and blurry, but it sort of looked a bit like Warren’s truck with strapped-on wings. And a rocket up its ass.

“How high are you?”

“HAVEN’T TAKEN A THING I SWEAR. GOTTA BE SOBER TO FLY,” Warren screamed.

“No. How far up?”

“OH! RIGHT. ALTIMETER BROKE AT FIVE HUNDRED.”

“Okay, let me see if I’ve got this straight,” I said. “You’re in a truck, about five hundred feet in the air, with a JATO rocket duct-taped to the undercarriage.

Warren, if this was anyone but you, I’d swear this was a prank call.“

The roar cut out. “That’s it,” chirped Warren. “I’m coasting from here on out. There’s not a lot of signal out here, but I’m gonna–”

The call cut out next. All I could do was watch the footage and pray he made it there alive.

Some are born to greatness. Some have greatness thrust upon them. And some, like Warren, actively seek greatness despite only having two neurons to rub together. If I was you? I’d watch out for the third kind.

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