Full Throttle Heart — 2 — A Whole New World

[Truck-kun waking up in a strange forest]

Truck-kun’s engine rumbled to life, the revometer visibly trembling. The last thing it remembered was that rogue box truck barreling toward it… Joe’s wide-eyed face through the coffee shop window… The sound of screeching metal and busting glass… Joe falling to his knees in anguish…

That was one crazy nightmare!

Truck-kun rolled forward, its tires gripping dirt. It sprayed fluid on its windshield and wiped, trying to get rid of the haze.

Wait, that wasn’t right…

Dirt?

Truck-kun spun its wheels, kicking up dirt. That definitely wasn’t right. There wasn’t any dirt in the city.

Its engine revved and its revometer flicked with uncertainty. Finally, Truck-kun’s window cleared enough for it to see.

It was in the middle of a forest, surrounded by enormous, towering trees. A blanket of moss stretched out between them. Realization settled on Truck-kun’s metal frame—not just that it was a long way from city streets, but that it was also alone. Not even distant bird calls helped to shake the unease spreading through its engine.

“Joe?” Truck-kun grumbled in desperation.

Where was Joe?

“Joe?” This time it was Truck-kun’s own voice that gave it pause.

“Joe…” The voice came out in a deep rumble, like Truck-kun had just woken up from a deep slumber. In a pang of sadness, it reminded Truck-kun of Joe’s own voice early in the morning, before Joe had his second cup of coffee.

“Is this real?” Truck-kun wondered aloud, as much to its newfound voice as to the strange surroundings.

Only silence answered.

Not knowing what else to do, Truck-kun put on its flashers and drove cautiously through the forest.

[Montage of Truck-kun driving through the forest:

[Craning its high beams up to see just how tall the trees are.

[Passing empty meadows and streams.

[Illuminating ancient, overgrown statues of warriors in strange armor.]

It was at the second such statue, of a man wearing large, boxy armor and standing proudly, that Truck-kun stopped to rest. It had driven for hours and not met another soul in the forest. There weren’t even any radio stations to keep it company.

The sun was getting low behind the trees, casting the forest in gloom. A beautiful bluebird flew down from the trees and settled on Truck-kun’s roof. Joe would’ve taken it as a sign, and Truck-kun resolved to stay there until the next morning.

Truck-kun didn’t work nights.

Truck-kun’s engine hummed wearily, and it turned toward the statue—its headlights casting the shadow in a harsh light. Again, it thought of Joe, and how the driver looked walking outside on those cold, cold mornings back home… wherever home was.

“I miss you, Joe,” Truck-kun rumbled.

“WHAT THE HELL!?”

The box car startled, its engine rumbling with shock. It turned around and backed up to the statue, high beams scanning the forest for danger. But as Truck-kun searched the treeline, it didn’t see anything at all—

Except for the statue, and an equally frightened bluebird perched atop it.

The bluebird craned its head, regarding Truck-kun through the bright lights.

Truck-kun flicked its high beams off to be polite.

“Was that you?” Truck-kun asked.

For a moment, the bluebird looked equal parts scared and offended. The bird ruffled its feathers. “Of course it was—who else would it be? I thought you were a statue.” Its voice was surprisingly gruff, like a used car salesman who’d smoked a pack a day since they were twelve.

“I’m not a statue. I’m a truck.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s what I am,” Truck-kun replied confidently. Then, because it wanted to know more about the strange forest, it asked, “Do other animals talk in this strange forest?”

The bluebird let out a horrid cough that made Truck-kun wince. It was only after the bird finished that Truck-kun realized it had been laughing.

“Buddy, everybody talks in this forest. You got a lot of dummies where you come from?”

Truck-kun shook his cab. “I come from an honorable city.”

“Likely story. Listen, uh… Say, what’s your name?”

“My name is Truck-kun.”

“Well, I’m Al. Nice to meet you. Now beat it. This is my statue.”

Truck-kun glanced from the statue to the bird. “Weren’t you just content to sit on my head?”

“Yes, but that was then. This is now. Now beat it. Everybody knows only one bird to a statue.”

“But I’m not a bird.”

“And you’re not a statue either.” The bluebird ruffled its feathers and settled onto the shoulder of the statue, as if the argument was settled.

Truck-kun turned and looked out across the forest again. But as its light cast spooky shadows among the trees, its decision only became more certain.

“I am staying,” Truck-kun said.

“Buddy, I don’t know if you heard me, so I’ll speak slowly this time…”

The bluebird trailed off just as an enormous silhouette appeared in the distance. It stared at Truck-kun with two blood-red eyes.

The creature plodded forward ominously, Its hulking form becoming even more prominent. It was an enormous bear with shoulders as tall as Truck-kun’s cab. Its claws gouged the earth and saliva dripped from its deadly looking fangs.

“That’s a dire bear,” Al, the bluebird, whispered. “And that’s not a small one. If you try to run, be sure to zig-zag. If you can soil yourself, do it—sometimes that will deter them… Sometimes.”

“What else can I do?”

“You can’t fly, can you?”

“No.”

The dire bear plodded forward with the inexorability of an apex predator. Truck-kun had never seen a creature so big other than fellow automobiles, nor one so angry.

It lumbered all the way up to Truck-kun, stopping just a foot away from its headlights. Then the bear reared up on its hind legs, its head rising up even higher than the top of Truck-kun’s box.

Truck-kun saw the world in slow motion—just like it had during that fateful crash.

The dire bear bellowed and lunged forward, slashing at Truck-kun with the entirety of its bulk and power. Truck-kun heard the squeal of the bear’s terrible claws on its metal hood. And it felt nothing…

It felt nothing. Nothing at all.

Truck-kun was unharmed.

The bear roared again, undeterred, and reared back to strike again.

Something within Truck-kun stirred, something deep within its engine—within its heart. A power it had never known. Truck-kun’s body began to change.

[Cue stylized view of Truck-kun transforming from its normal truck form to its truck warrior form].

Truck-kun’s entire body transformed! Its wheelbase contorted, its wheels shifting to become feet while the rest of its wheelbase became legs. Its cab rose up until it was a torso. At the same time, its storage box unfolded, becoming armor plates that sheathed its limbs.

Truck-kun was tall enough to look the dire bear in the face, and the bear’s eyes grew wide and it let out a confused growl.

Truck-kun hauled back and punched the bear in the face.

The dire bear was thrown back, skidding across the dirt. It lay crumpled in a heap, unmoving. Dead.

Truck-kun stared in confusion at its slain enemy.

“WHAT THE HELL?”

Truck-kun startled and turned to face the statue, and the shocked face of the bluebird.

“How did you do that?” Al demanded. “That was a dire bear! I don’t know if you know this, but dire bears aren’t just any old bears—they’re dire.”

“I’m sorry,” Truck-kun said, both to the bluebird and to the bear. Truck-kun hadn’t meant to kill it.

“Don’t be sorry! That was awesome. You were just like, get outta my forest and then WHAM!”

Truck-kun looked at the slain corpse of the bear with a mix of relief, confusion, and sadness. It should’ve known what would happen—it should’ve known!

No animal could stand up to unflinching, unfeeling steel.

~ ~ ~