The Magnificent Seven

Urban Legends Seven Style:
Speeding Along


Disclaimer: The characters of "The Magnificent Seven" belong to MGM, Trilogy, etc and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Universe: ATF
Character: Buck
Rating: Suitable for all ages
Email: to MMW

Urban Legends Seven Style: Speeding Along

Buck saw the flashing lights in his rearview mirror and let out a low curse. Signaling that he was pulling over, he came to a stop, put his car in park and turned the engine off, waiting and knowing he really could not afford a speeding ticket. If he were home he would have no worries, but he was quite a ways from home and out of state.

Taking a deep breath, he put on his most charming smile and looked out his window as the officer stopped. “Good evening, officer,” he greeted.

“Do you know why I pulled you over?” the officer asked.

Wondering if he could get away with denying it, Buck sighed and figured he would just take his lumps. “I think I was going a little fast,” he admitted. “Maybe about 75 or so?” he offered more as a question than a statement.

“I clocked you going 95 in a 55 mile per hour zone,” the officer replied, his face stern.

Buck’s jaw fell open. He knew he had been going fast, but there was no way he was going 95, was there? “That can’t be right,” he protested.

“That’s what my radar gun said,” the officer replied.

“Can I see that for myself?” Wilmington inquired.

“That’s your right,” the officer replied, stepping away from the door so the ladies’ man could get out.

Walking back to the patrol car together, Buck was struggling with the information. It was certainly possible that he had been traveling at 95 miles per hour, he had done it before, but somehow he could not believe he was going that fast tonight.

Reaching the car, the officer allowed Buck to read the number still locked into the machine. It read 95 miles per hour. “I can’t believe that,” Buck protested yet again. “There’s got to be something wrong with your machine. Could you run the self-test on it?”

The officer ground his teeth together. He had been on duty ten hours and wanted nothing more than to get this ticket written and get back to the station so he could file his reports and go home. “Fine,” he replied tightly. “That’s your right.”

Reaching into the car, he pressed the self-test button. After a moment, it came up reading “Error”. A strangled sound escaped the officer. “Go,” the officer hissed, closing his eyes.

Wilmington’s jaw had once more dropped open, knowing that the officer could not give him a ticket because of the error message on the radar gun. Without saying a word, Buck hurried to his truck, got in, started it and drove away making sure to keep well within the speed limit as relief over having gotten out of a speeding ticket rushed through him.


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