[ WP ] You know the random driver in every action movie where the hero jumps in and orders to `` follow that car ! '' . Yup , that 's you . Every single time you 're trying to get anywhere .

`` Aw, you got ta be kidding me. Get out, man,'' Bertie growled, as yet another guy with a few too many scars tried to tell him to follow someone else. Two weeks on the job, and he was ready to tear his hair out. 
 
 `` What am I, a human bloodhound on wheels? Get bent, mate.'' 
 
 The guy stared disbelievingly at Bertie, his giant hands curled into fists. `` You do n't understand! My little boy, he was just kidnapped...'' 
 
 `` Oh, yeah, sure,'' Bertie sneered, crossing his arms as he refused to move his taxi out of the parking lot. `` And I bet you're also a mobster whose partner has run off with a large sum of money, or a detective closing in on a serial killer, or, or...'' 
 
 `` Look, I know this sounds like every bad movie you've ever seen, but seriously - someone grabbed my Alex. Someone who I know wo n't hesitate to kill him. Will you just drive, already, I'll pay you anything!'' 
 
 `` Tell it to some other asshole, will you? I've had enough.'' As a warning, he showed the guy the knife he kept concealed in his sleeve. Never hurt to prepare for the crazies that seemed to fill this city. 
 
 The man gave a strangled cry of fury. His eyes were bloodshot, crazy with rage. Quite convincing. 
 
 `` You'll regret this, I promise you. I have your number,'' he hissed at Bertie, before jumping out of the taxi and running to flag down another. 
 
 Bertie smoked furiously in the car, making rude gestures to people who tried to get in. He'd kept this to himself, so far, but this was too much. If he did n't vent, he'd explode. He sighed and called his best friend, Nathan. Talking it out would make him feel better. After making small talk, he got to the point. He had to bounce this off someone, just to be sure he was n't losing his damn mind. Perhaps all his marbles had finally rolled out of the building. 
 
 `` Nate, you would n't believe the day I've had... no, make that *weeks*. I'm getting ready to quit this gig. I know I always wanted to drive a taxi in New York, but seriously, this is ridiculous -'' 
 
 He heard peels of laughter from Nathan, and suddenly understood. 
 
 `` It was you, was n't it? You goddamn cocksucker, you sent some strangers to make my life a living hell?'' 
 
 `` I'm sorry, man, I could n't resist! You like those corny movies so much, it was perfect. Look, do n't be mad, it was just a joke among the guys. We've stopped sending'em a few days ago, anyway. Your rides will be smooth from now on.'' 
 
 `` Oh, yeah? What about that crazy guy just now, supposedly after his kidnapped son?'' 
 
 There was a beat of silence. 
 
 `` What man? No, seriously, Bert, we did n't send anyone after the detective...'' 
 
 `` Do n't give me that shite -'' Bertie began, but was interrupted by the cold press of a gun against his neck. Someone reached in and grabbed his phone, and smashed it. He felt his arm being jerked forward. It was the man from before, looking quite deranged. He removed Bertie's knife and tossed it next to the scattered remains of his cellphone. 
 
 `` My boy's dead. Dead,'' he said coldly, jamming the gun painfully into Bertie's neck. `` All of you who made this happen will bleed. Starting with you.'' 
 
 `` Woah, hey, mister Method Actor, this is taking things too far,'' Bertie spluttered. `` Jesus, go to acting school already, but stop targeting me, I'm sick of it!'' 
 
 Bertie saw the crazy glint in the man's ice-blue eyes sparkle, and felt his stomach drop. 
 
 `` Oh, you're not acting,'' he said, and tried to smile at the man. He seemed to have forgotten how. `` That's a shame about your boy. It's a funny story, really, why I would n't help you... see, my friends...'' 
 
 `` Keep talking, asshole,'' the man said, climbing into the car. He shoved Bertie over as he slid behind the wheel. `` We're going for a ride, you and I. I want to have a more private conversation about how hilarious my son's death is.''
