Gravel crunched and dust rose as the small Toyota, thumping, indiscernible club-tunes pulsing through the windows, ground to a halt at the edge of the road. A cloud of dust rose, hung above and around the car briefly, then dissipated with the wind. A raven, frightened by the commotion flew off croaking a warning to its comrades.
“Are you ready my brothers?” A voice from within, high pitched, full of fury, emanated from the partially open window as the music was briefly turned down.
A chorus of muffled voices yelled as one “Yes brother!” as the window behind the driver also opened, and two large paper bags were tossed out onto the ground. Paper cups, wrappers and cardboard French fry sleeves spilled out and were as well taken away by the wind.
“Does anyone have to pee?” the voice asked?
Muffled responses to the contrary were emitted, this time, not as one.
“Good. We are on time then. Are you ready to give your lives for the cause?”
“Then open windows, unlock doors and prepare to teach these dirtbags a thing or two!”
The car started again and back up slowly about one hundred feet from the direction it came. It stopped and after a few tense moments of decisive channel changing, a suitable thumping hip hip tune was selected. The raven and three of his friends made nervous sounds to one another as they watched from afar on top of a billboard advertising a spring special at In and Out burger outlets. With a tossing of gravel, the car began to accelerate. At the point where it had previously stopped, it turned sharply to the left and continued to accelerate as it headed through the sunset pulloff, past the wooden stage area then over the adjacent cliff where a section of guard rail had be removed for repairs. Yellow caution tape and three small orange pylons offered no resistance, flying into the sky along with the car as it shot at full speed into the air, over the cliff.
Doors opened and surprisingly quickly, four very large men exited as the car nosedived downward almost three thousand feet below. They spread their arms and legs, brilliant pink (oversized) winguits lifting them, causing them to become human airfoils. They screamed loudly as they rocketed toward the desert below.
At a speed of three hundred and forty (plus change) metres per second, the sound of the exploding car as it struck the rocky foot of the cliff below the sunset lookout took a little under three seconds to reach the wedding guests. Ten seconds later, the objects in the sky flying toward the wedding could be resolved as human. Less than two seconds later, four bright pink clad screaming men, flying two hundred kilometers per hour slammed into the fit, buff seated guests from behind, the minster (in shorts and a tank top), the bride (mini-skirt, legs like steel) and the steam line which today offered a full assortment of low calorie high protein dishes. Flames erupted from the propane heaters setting the tentage alight, bodies flew in all directions and more screaming filled the desert.
The ravens took flight loudly, croaking an invitation to others and drawing the attention of local buzzards.
The first attack of the Obesist Liberation Army was a messy, hot, success.