“Didn’t get hit too hard?” Taylor said. “I don’t know about all that. I have six arms now.”
Taylor moved her arms rhythmically to illustrate her point. “But just look at you! You’re so very… sporty!”
The sarcastic tone in Taylor’s voice did not go in no it’s by Megan, who coolly said, “don’t start with me Taylor. You remember what happened last time you treated me poorly. The only thing stopping me from kicking your ass right now is the fact that I no longer have legs.” Megan turned her front wheel from side to side and gestured to her vehicular half to illustrate her point.
“Well, well,” her nemesis spoke again, “I had hoped we’d turned a new leaf, but I guess you’re as much *hell on wheels* as always, haha.”
“Can it you six-armed bimbo! You’re just lucky I can’t make it up these stairs on my own!”
“Yes,” cooed Taylor. “I imagine your new form has quite a lot of limitations. For example, I wonder what would happen if…”
Before Megan knew what was going on, Taylor had leaped off the porch, using two of her six arms to hold Megan’s arms to her side, two to hold her handlebars steady, and the other two to grab Megan’s keys from her ignition, shutting her engine off in the process and rendering her helpless, just like in her dream from the previous night.
Megan, startled by what had happened, still wondered for half a second at how her dream had been so prophetic. She soon got over this and was consumed by rage, however, breaking free from Taylor’s grasp and making a grab for her keys.
Taylor was too quick though, and she jumped out of the way, setting the keys on the porch before Megan could grab reach her. The keys were only a few feet away, but it may as well have been a mile for Megan, who was now completely helpless. Taylor moved closer, standing just a few inches behind Megan’s limited reach.
Megan, for her part, bent her upper half at the waist, struggling and trying in vain to reach Taylor, such was her fury. “YOU BITCH!” she screamed. “GIVE ME BACK MY KEYS RIGHT NOW, BEFORE I - ”
“Before you what?” said Taylor in a sultry voice. “What is my little pet motorcycle going to do? You’re stuck to that spot with no way to budge an inch. You broke my jaw, you bisexual motorcycle freak. I should be selling you for scrap. However, I think we can work out a deal.” Taylor smiled an evil grin.
“What kind of deal?” Megan huffed, still irate at her predicament.
“Well, you see, I’m currently without a means of transportation at the moment, and the bus is no way for a six-armed goddess like myself to travel. So, if you be a good little motorcycle taur thing and let me ride you where I need to go, I’ll let you sleep in the garage (with your keys out course. Can’t have you running away on me) and I won’t sell you for scrap. Down the road, I might even consider giving you your freedom back. What do you say to that?”
Megan knew that Taylor was relishing yet another chance to humiliate her. She dressed the thought of serving as this hussy’s personal conveyance, but what else could she do? She could keep her pride and refuse, but she didn’t know if Taylor was bluffing. She could pretend to accept and then try to fight back. Or she could wait it out and make the best of it. After all, her bus DID have a lot of limitations and she would need a companion with legs to accomplish a lot of things.