Dude, Where's My Star? (Part Two)

'You should have bought the pink ones!'

'No, he wanted red!' I spat back. '...To emphasize his...'

'Love for the ladies, I know!' Alex replied.

'Pink would only emphasize his love for the boys. Which, I'm sure, he wouldn't appreciate.'

I wasn't really enjoying the conversation. Probably because we were arguing and probably because we were both running at quite a fast pace towards the car wash, where our star for the day, TV's Freddie Fisher was trapped.

'Hurry up, Dylan!' It's Freddie Fisher!'

'I'm going as fast as I can!'

I'm not really a runner. I waddle more than anything. We ran across the first set of cars in front of the stationary store, down the side of Pizza Hut and over the busy road. I must have twisted my ankle twice and dropped the walkie-talkie every time I heard Sharon shouting out of it. I felt a little sorry for Alex. He was really looking forward to today and quite frankly, I haven't seen him this excited since he found out how to get free porn on his phone. Now it was all going pear-shaped, with a line of at least 15 people already waiting outside the store and just a stones throw away, the man they came to see wash trapped in a car.

We got the to the car wash in a hale of wheezing and breathlessness. Alex anxiously started pressing buttons on the side of it as I stared at the black car in front of me, revving it's engine violently as the mechanics of the system whirred around it. Water was spitting out from the top, which hit the darkened windows with a splat. It was only then I realised that the car wash was going twice as quick as it would normally go, as if it was stuck on the fast forward button. The wash rollers where spinning too fast and crashing every couple of seconds into the sides of the car.

'Tell him to stop revving!'

Alex was shouting at me like his whole family was stuck in the car. The bright red emergency stop button didn't do anything. I stepped over the first roller, avoided the puddles of water and slapped on the drivers side of the window.

'Stop revving!' I shouted.

The window buzzed opened about an inch, the peek of a dark cap glistening on the top of a head.

'I'm trying to get out!'

The man sounded pretty old, with a panicked Geordie accent.

'Is this Freddie Fishman geordie?' I shouted over to Alex.

'Fisher! No!'

'He sounds Geordie!'

Alex finally looked away from the buttons and peered into the window.

'That's his driver, you idiot!'

Alex called me an idiot. A day of firsts.

'We need to get Freddie out!' I shouted at the crack in the window. 'He's got a signing!'

'No, you need to get me out!' The voice spat back.

'Forget him!' Alex shouted over. 'He's not a celebrity!'

He might be. He could be famous in his city of Newcastle. He could have invented something or been on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?. I stopped watching that as soon as someone became one.

'OK, I'll lift the roller up!'

I rushed over to the front of the car, got a hold of the soapy, soaked roller and gave it a big pull. It was considerably heavier that I imagined, which make me squawk in pain and fall backwards. The water soaking into my clothes made me heavier too, which made me fall faster onto my back. I didn't noticed at first, but Alex had given up pressing buttons and went straight for the celebrity. He yanked the back door open and jumped into the back of the car. The next few seconds were a blur, I’ll I'm honest. It was like in the film when the hero goes back into the water to do something important, and you're not sure if he'll make it back up to the surface. Time stands still. The orchestra roars behind it and suddenly a face appears in the centre of the screen. Well, that bit didn't happen. The other side door opened and Alex stepped out the other side.

'Where the fuck is he?' Alex looked over at me, soapy suds falling down his face.

The drivers side opened viscously and the driver got out, trying desperately to dodge the spurts of water hitting the car.

'I dropped him off at the store half an hour ago, you tits!'

A tit and an idiot. All in one day. That's a new low for me. The side rollers rattled back over to the car, roaring and whistling at the same time.

'Shit!' The driver shouted.

The right roller charged towards the opened doors as the driver rushed over to it. He just got the door in time to slam it shut, but he was still in the way. The roller lifted him off his feet and rose up and revolved again, dumping him back onto the floor. It was then that the car wash groaned to a halt. The last spurts of water pushed itself out of the sides, the rollers fizzed to a stop and the lights went out. Alex and I looked over to each other. I was far more wet and soapier than him, but he looked angrier. He just stood there, his breath heavy, staring at the car.

'Shall we go and meet Freddie?' I asked.

As we walked up the store, the line of people where trickling into the front doors. Sharon had seen us from the window upstairs and shot down to us, meeting us in the foyer.

'Lads, where are the red marker p...what in God's name happened to you?'

'Thanks for telling us he was already in the store!' Alex said, digging bits of soap out of his pocket.

'Car wash is a bit broke, Sharon.' I said.

'And there's a man on the floor inside it.'

'Yeah, might was to get an ambulance for him.'

'Fine. Where are the pens?'

'Problem with that, Sharon.' Alex said.

'Yeah, they only had pink.'

'And we got kicked out of the shop.'

Sharon looked to the side, trying to the put everything together in her head.

'I wanted to buy pink.' Alex said.

'No, God no.' Sharon shuddered. 'That would only emphasize his love for the boys.'

'That's what I said.'

'Well, you're going have to go over to him and tell him we have no red pens.'

'Sorry?'

'Go on.' She nodded over to him. 'Tell him.'

We sheepishly walked over to the table where Freddie Fisher was sat, his arm around a blushing young girl having their picture taken.

'Freddie.' Alex said.

'Yes, guys.'

Freddie was a tall bloke, a shiny blueberry coloured buttoned shirt on and tinted blonde hair carefully combed to a quiff.

'There's no pens.' Alex muffled.

'Sorry?'

'We've got no pens, Freddie, sir...'

Sir? I'm calling him Sir, now? He stared at us, both dripping with suds and water. His perfectly shaped chin quivered a little, as if he was about to flounce off.

'I've brought my own.' He turned away from us and greeted another girl.

'Have you?'

'Yeah, red ones.' He said, pulling out a silver tin of red marker pens from his top pocket. 'They emphasize my love for the ladies.'

'We've heard. You asked for us to buy some.'

'In case I run out.'

Alex and I turned around. There was about 20 odd people waiting in the cue quietly.

'I think you'll be fine.'

Freddie got on with his signing. There were more pictures taken that books signed, to be honest. But that's what happens these days, people would rather have a picture to pop up on the internet than read a book.

'Freddie.' I interrupted him again. 'You're driver's in the hospital.'

It turned out to be a good day, in the end. I felt rock 'n' roll about getting kicked out of my first shop and Alex got to give Freddie Fishman a lift home.