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Fuel Season 1: Episode 1: The Abominable Seduction

Witness the debut episode of Monday Night Fuel as we follow Solo Magubane

Monday Night Fuel is an ongoing weekly sports opera that follows the lives of the Formula-X Racers as they navigate the high octane world of motorsport on the Island Province of Azania, South Africa

2nd of September - Season 1

 

“Welcome to Monday Night Fuel.”

Those were the words that boomed from Moodswing’s mouth as he stood atop the stage that sat right in the middle of the racetrack. But while Moodswing gave the landmark speech that would change the face of the island province of Azania forever, all Solo could think of was his upcoming race... and just how many people were about to see it.

Solomon Magubane was an African man in his late twenties. He had quite a large build for a man who spent most of his time in a single-seater open-wheel car. But fortunately for him, he was very, very good at what he did. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t the only one. Solo currently stood amongst a dozen of the best racers in Azania, possibly even South Africa. And they were all listening to Moodswing’s speech.

Terrance ‘Moodswing’ Moodley - “Call me Moodswing,” he’d insist. Solo never understood why this young Indian man liked his name. Then again, everything about Moodswing was different from the norm. The 20-something-year-old was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and was practically handed his father’s million-rand dealership and yet here he stood, trying to start something from scratch with what he called a ‘local sports entertainment franchise’. It would be inspirational except for the fact that he was a jerk.

“What a jerk, right?” The words spoken to Solo came from a young 20-something-year blonde man standing next to him. The man had those boyishly good-looking facial features that made you wonder why he wasn’t a movie star or a Truworths model. Solo gave him a smirk and a slight nod in agreement. “Jim Kieck,” said the man, extending his hand.

“Solo Magubane.”

Jim flashed his pretty-boy smile. “Solo? Wow, is that your real name?” Solo nodded again. “Cool. So, who are you racing tonight?”

Solo gave the small piece of paper in his hand a quick look. He flinched. He was supposed to know the racecard off by heart by now. It was race night for Heaven’s sake. “Brenda Koek,” he said, reading out loud.

“Ah,” said Jim, pointing across the other racers to the young coloured woman with blond streaks in her hair. “That would be the hottie in brown leather at your ten o’clock.”

Solo rolled his eyes. While he could admit that Brenda Koek was quite attractive, even for his down-to-earth, natural woman tastes, he wasn’t here to flirt with the competition. But judging from the way that Jim was looking at... every woman, he was clearly here to flirt with whomever he could.

“Who’s your opponent, Jim?” Jim showed the name across from his own on the racecard. Solo smiled seeing the familiar name. “You’re racing Touch?”

“You know this Touch Mkhize guy?” This time Solo pointed out the fellow racer. The man Solo pointed to, was a man of average height dressed in a golf shirt, chinos and all stars. “That’s Touch Mkhize?” Jim shrugged. “He doesn’t look that tough to me.” 

Solo scoffed. “It’s not about looking tough, it’s about being fast. And trust me, you don’t want to underestimate Touch.”

“Tonight, is what we’re calling the Royal Tourney,” said Moodswing. Solo and Jim had been so busy talking that they’d almost forgotten that Moodswing was still in the middle of his speech. “The Royal Tourney is a tournament between these racers that you see before you. A series of one-on-one match races where the winner will be crowned the first-ever Formula-X King.”

Solo rolled his eyes. Damn Moodswing and his ideas. Solo had known Moodswing since Moodswing was a teenager. Solo knew Moodswing better than he ever wanted to. He knew how he came up with the idea for Formula-X: wrestling meets Formula 1. That’s why they were having these one-on-one races rather than just all going onto the racetrack at the same time like any other open-wheel race in the history of the world. But no, Moodswing wanted the pomp. And he wanted the circumstance.

When Moodswing finally finished talking, he handed over the reins to his business partner, Glenwood Jacobs who began organizing the racers for the upcoming races. He organized the first race of the night: Thawn Oberhauser vs. Styles Sithole.

Solo didn’t know much about these racers, but they couldn’t be more different than night and day. While they were dressed in their race suits for their one-on-one race, their civvies spoke volumes about their lives. While Styles dressed in bright green and black leather before the race, Thawn came to Fuel in a three-piece suit.

Solo was too nervous about his own race to watch the ground-breaking contest. However, he was able to hear Thawn’s victory speech following the race in the Winner’s Circle which was broadcast across the Fuel Speedway on the PA system. “What you must understand is that I only came here to win. There are no other options for me. So, for me, this was just the first of many. So, to answer your question: this was just the beginning.”

Solo knew right then that he hated this guy. He was just too obnoxious. It would be one thing if racing was the only thing that this Thawn Oberhauser did like Solo himself. Instead, Thorne was what they called a gentleman driver: a racer who only raced part-time. Then again, so were so many of the others including the next two racers: John Kloof and Penny Potgieter.

While Solo truly meant to watch this race, he ended up being distracted when he caught sight of his opponent, Brenda with a disgusted look on her face. When he followed her eyeline, he saw what she was looking at Jim Kieck with a woman’s tongue down his throat. Now it was Solo with a disgusted look on his face. Except that where Brenda was disgusted by Jim’s actions, Solo was wondering just what in the hell the woman found attractive about Jim.

“Come on,” said Brenda who was now standing close to him, “I mean I know he’s pretty but…” She made a vomiting face.

“I take it, you don’t approve,” said Solo in an as-a-matter-of-a-fact tone.

“It’s not that I don’t see what they’d both find interesting about each other. I do. It’s just,” she thought of the right word, “so typical.”

Solo thought about that for a second before screwing his brow. “Typical?”

“Of men.”

Solo scoffed again, amused this time. “You think all men are like that?”

Brenda looked at him. “You’re telling me you’re not?” Solo just looked at her. “So, when you and the Playboy over there were pointing at me and talking about me, you weren’t discussing my looks?”

Solo knew better than to answer that question. “I’m sorry, did I do something to offend you or something?”

“No, not really,” she said so nonchalantly it successfully threw Solo off. He wondered if she was messing with him until she smiled, clearly showing that she was. “Wow, you take yourself too seriously, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Yes.” Why was she coming at him like this?

“Did you not hear anything that Moodswing said earlier?” she asked. Solo shrugged. “This is like a high school playground.” Solo drew a blank. “He wants us to make things interesting for the people watching.”

Solo looked around, confused. There was no one even remotely in earshot. “But there’s no one watching.”

Brenda then lifted her phone that she’d strategically hidden from sight that had been recording the whole time. “There will be when I upload this onto social media.” Brenda reacted to Solo’s blank stare. “I’ll edit out that last part. Trust me, this is going to add such heat to our race when they splice it into the replay of our race tonight.” Brenda then walked away, proud of what she’d done, leaving Solo dumbfounded.

“This place is a circus,” said Solo rolling his eyes. But secretly, he found himself enjoying that. After John Kloof came out of his race victorious and gave a touching tribute to his family for his win, Solo made his way to the start line.

His vehicle was already waiting for him, his team having made all the pre-race preparations. His vehicle: a black single-seater with white skull vinyls was a beautiful machine. An all-powerful monster specifically designed for one reason: moving faster than anything in its way. While a white and gold vehicle that looked familiar, belonging to Brenda Koek stood next to it, it held no comparison... not to Solo. 

As Solo looked at his vehicle, he smiled. He smiled because he knew that he was going to win. It was a done deal. Moodswing could have all the Royal Tourneys he wanted. Whether it was one-on-one or all at once, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that when he got inside his vehicle and put that helmet on, he was getting across the finish line first. The name of his vehicle... was the Abominable Seduction.

 

 

 

 

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Copyright © Copyright © 2020 by Sphu "Beesting" Kubheka
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