Prompt: Fickle, develop a narrative based on this term.
Jim Morgan pulled to a stop at the cracked wall decorated with crude graffiti. The designated finish line. His competitor was nowhere to be seen. He smiled to himself, he had won again. He pulled his joystick into reverse and sped out of the cramped alley. As he checked his mirror to see if it was safe to drive back onto the crowded street, he smiled. He remembered back to when he had just started racing, how he was always so nervous he would be caught. It wasn’t exactly legal to race through red lights just to show the jerk in the lane next to him that he was more of a man. Yet, no cop had seen him, he didn’t know why he used to get so worked up about it.
He had never been caught. As he drove up to the next light, a shiny silver volvo pulled up next to him. The driver sported a leather jacket and shades and was staring right at him. “You got a problem mate?” Jim growled, annoyed at the mysterious driver. “Yeah, I think I do,” he replied, smoothly taking off his glasses. Jim had to suppress a gasp as he saw the driver’s piercing blue eyes. He was sure he had seen him before, but he couldn’t think of where. “Yeah? Well spit it out, I got places to be and things to do!” Jim snarled, not liking this guy. “Can I interest you in a race my friend?” He said being mockingly polite. “Of course, pal. But I’ll warn you, I always win.” Jim chuckled under his breath, this rookie doesn’t know what he’s getting into. He thought. “Well that’s fickle,” the stranger replied with a grin.
Jim gritted his teeth and reved the engine, a loud snarl came to his lips echoing the snarl of his car. The stranger’s volvo had more of a purr. As soon as the light flashed green, he leaped to a start, leaving the stranger in the dust. He sped around corners and through the streets, laughing at pedestrians astonished expressions. The buildings sped past him like they were in fast forward. Soon he left the city and was approaching a gas station, this seemed far enough so he pulled into a parking space waiting for the stranger to arrive. About 10 minutes later, he did and pulled quietly into the spot next to his. Jim snickered at him and said cockily, “Well, what did I say? I always win and it’s NOT fickle!”
The stranger stepped out of his car and pulled a police badge from his pocket. Jim’s eyes widened as he recognized the Chief of Police in his disguise. He cursed quietly under his breath. “Jim Morgan you’re under arrest for continuous speeding and running red lights with no cease in your behavior. And that’s NOT fickle.”