Fergus Drives a Car
And, sometimes you think you’d like to drive a car pretty fast like the racing cars do on television.
When I was a teenager, Fergus used to watch those races on the television. Boy, were those cars noisy. They had big tires and big engines and no mufflers and they crashed all the time and got into wrecks – just the stuff that a big fat frog would think was exciting.
Fergus used to watch the races with me and his favourite car was number 24 – it was driven by (who else) but a driver named Fergus. My fat frog Fergus would sit on my lap with his huge yellow eyes just glued to the television as the cars spun around the track. Round and round they’d go and Fergus never tired of the action.
Well, after I got my license, Fergus used to go riding with me and he’d make all the racing noises while I was slowly driving down the street.
I would safely stop at a stop sign and Fergus would be making tire squealing noises and describing the action of a car smashing headlong into a stop sign – plowing up the nearby lawns and generally ruining everything around.
I would slowly pull away from the stop sign and Fergus would start to describe the start of a race, complete with sound effects of tires squealing, the crowd roaring with excitement and the waving of the big green flags to start the cars flying.
While I was driving at the speed limit, Fergus would have me going fast enough to break all kinds of speed records. And, when I passed a car, he’d stick his head out the window and wave that great big long tongue at the other driver.
Fergus loved to go for rides.
Well, one day I went for a ride in the car and Fergus asked if he could help me. We were up at the cottage and nobody was driving on the country roads so I said “sure”. Fergus hopped right up on top of the steering wheel and I slowly pushed the gas pedal.
We started rolling along and when Fergus wanted us to go the left side of the road, he just hopped over to the left side of the steering wheel and his weight would slowly pull the wheel down.
When he wanted to go to the right, he hopped over to the right and away we went towards the right hand side of the road.
Fergus wasn’t a very good driver and the path we traced going down the highway – back and forth – back and forth – looked more like a snake crawling than it did a car driving.
But all the time Fergus was driving he was talking and telling me how fast he was going and how he was setting all kinds of records.
Well, he was for a frog. No other frog in the history of the world had driven a car except for Fergus. So, it didn’t matter than we were only going 2 miles an hour – Fergus was going faster than any other frog in the history of the world. And he was driving (Sort of – I had my hands on the bottom of the wheel where Fergus couldn’t see them.)
The next day Fergus asked me to buy him a crash helmet because he wanted to take up motorcycle racing but I may have to leave that story for another night. You see I couldn’t find a helmet so I had to make one and how I made it and where it wore it first is the really important part of the story.
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