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Saturday, January 31, 2015

Today's #flashfiction #MASCAR

“Are you bluffing?”
Doctor Charles Xavier* #quote

        Today I'll be having my birthday party and there shall be much fun. One of the few times I ever have both my friends CJ and Jessica over at the same time. We've been playing a multiplayer game each time. We haven't beaten it yet so maybe we'll clear it today if we get to it. Otherwise it might have to be another year till we spend some time on it. I figure the final boss is on his evil throne thinking “Man, where are those guys?”

MASCAR

       The Magical Association for Sorcerer or Caster Automobile Racing held races all over the wizarding realms. Fifty percent of magical races fell under MASCAR's sponsorship and rules. Often their staff ran them directly. Though MASCAR put its wands in all levels of racing the biggest profits and the largest deals(which it often sponsored the lower level races just to get people into racing so they'd get into racing) were the professional races.
        At this point the races needed to be so skilled so that they could race in lunatic conditions to put on the spectacle that would impress the masses. The cars rested on a starting platform above a canyon of black magical flames. The smoke from the canyon didn't obscure their vision as a small tornado pulled them into the center creating the deadly ring of the track.
         The racers signed enough liability papers that MASCAR wouldn't be affected if they died. Which most of the time nobody did. And the large prize money tempted the skilled drivers. So they performed in the races for fame and fortune after spending years climbing up the ladder to perform in these races.
         Veston worked hard to reach this point. His years in enchantment school set him up for several jobs in the field, but instead he took the skill to make his car the best it could be. Enchanting a car for high performance is just as legal as adjusting any physical part. Much of the sport was making your car the best.
         He took even the basic spell that made the cars fly and enchanted it to be greater on the most fundamental level. To understand how he altered his vehicle for protection from other magic and danger and the elements would require knowledge of magic on a high level. Like all of the advanced cars on the track his glowed the warm glow of idle protective magic. The glow of a sunset.
         Despite how fast he climbed up to the professional level he didn't get much coverage by MASCAR because he wasn't a pretty face with lots of personality. Boring for TV. And boring means less viewership. Which means less profits. Which also meant he was planned to die today.
         The drivers who managed to get on the professional tracks had reached incredible levels. But some needed to be weeded out for the new, eliminated for several reasons, some just being drama Most of the time people didn't die on the dangerous tracks. But the other times it was hardly by accident. The MASCAR higher ups adjusted the magical obstacles to take out who they wanted. The canyon of black fire was an ancient phenomenon left behind from demons. Supposedly out of their control. But they found a way to control it. Perfect for whatever they pleased.
       Veston began his race with the other drivers. Swerving and flying around them, the other cars being his only obstacle. Bursts of fire started shooting from the canyon. The crowd in the stadium gasped. Supposedly the spirits of demons acting up, this was not the first time this happened, but it did not happen every race.
        The reason the plumes of fire didn't appear every race simply depended on whether someone like Relin, a MASCAR higher up, pressed the button. He kept sprouting the flames as he usually did. At first purposely giving the racers openings to go through.
        Veston dodged both the flames and the other racers while still keeping a decent position of third. Relin kept putting pressure with the flames on all the racers to make them move more and more erratically and throw them off. MASCAR had a formula to this. Throw all the racers off so they all moved awkwardly, then hit the mark among the confused little mob. Relin found Veston's more calm steering among the flames strange.
        When enough time passed during the final lap Relin shot up a column of flame to roast Veston. The racer went straight through it and pulled into first. Frustrated at the impossibility Relin tried again and Veston still passed unhindered and the racer behind him became torched, but since the column of flame was not focused on the racer it was not fatal.
        While celebratory confetti fell on the landing platform for the cars on the track the shocked Relin sat in his chair. So many other racers fell with ease. What went wrong?
       Relin's boss stormed in. “You idiot! You hit the wrong racer! You were supposed to kill that boring Veston guy! Not torch the face off of another racer that sells millions of dollars of merchandise!”
         Relin replied with a weak voice, still shocked at his first failure, “He must have enchanted his vehicle to be protected against the hazards.” The MASCAR bosses didn't look too deeply into the boring looking Veston. “I'll find a way to kill him next time. Like we do with all the others.”
       A wizard dressed in officer blue robes with a police badge entered the room like he'd been haunting it. Relin thought about the last few words him and his boss said and also where a listening device could be.

         “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” The officer told them with a voice that implied he wanted to throw them into the pits of fire of the canyon himself.

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