By Tulayne Blaktop
Staff Roads Writer
VALLEY OF DOOM -- Hell Driver used to pick off motorists on the highway. Now he’s picking them up.
His new ride-hail service is now available to those looking for sweet, sweet revenge, and you can climb aboard his death black ’55 Chevy at El Diablo Truck Stop along Hell’s Highway and go after those scumbags that did you wrong.
“Anyone who’s ever been run off the road by decrepit oil tanker trucks or murderous Lincoln Continentals knows there’s nothing you in your non-possessed Plymouth Valiant are gonna do about it,” said Holden Agrudge, a former motorist who lost a road rage battle with a crazed blood-red Plymouth Fury back in the 1980s. “Now I’m back from the grave, except this time I’m riding shotgun with Hell Driver.”
Those who can’t stay ahead of their evil pursuers in their souped-up set of wheels can now take comfort in knowing that, with Hell Driver in his flaming hot ride, you too can move at unearthly speeds.
“You too can be unstoppable,” Agrudge said. “No cop, no crash, no fire will leave you stranded on the side of the road. Instead, you can go after those bastards that took you out in life. Revenge is a dish best served under your tires.”
Slip into the upholstered seats colored diabolic red (yes, that’s an official, patented color), grab hold of the “Oh Crap!” handle and hang on. Before you know it, you’ll be running down those who have it coming to them, sending them careening into the flames whence they came for all of eternity.
“There’s always enough retribution to be dealt,” said Hell Driver, who sat down with Jack-o’-Lantern Press to discuss his new enterprise. The demon wheeler, bearing an uncanny resemblance to a decaying Charles Bronson, is more than thrilled to offer aid to those in their rise to vigilantism. “It’s time for some payback. Being a wheelman on these highways for as long as I’ve been, I know personally that there are some sons-o’-bitches out there that deserve to be punished. But there’s a price to be paid for my services.”
Ride with Hell Driver long enough, collect a good share of kill marks on the front fender (and bodies in the vehicle's bottomless trunk), and you’ll soon find yourself in the driver’s seat.
“That’s right,” Hell Driver said. “The doors lock on you for good, and there’s no need to own your own set of keys. The car never shuts off. You’re doomed to be on the road forever, releasing me from my curse, cursing and screwing you forever, a sweet, devilish revenge in and of itself.”