Taking a circuitous route around San Antonio, the bus attempted to corral its first passenger. A sad face could be seen looking out the window before turning away.
“Yo, Henry, you said that this was gonna be a smash hit. But we don’t even have a single participant yet!”
Henry, the coordinator of the endeavor, was unapologetic. “As with anything this bold and radical, it takes the public a while to realize what’s going on. They’ll come, Aron. They’ll come. They cannot resist the ‘Baynes Bus’ for much longer,” he said from the driver’s seat.
The interior of the bus was lavishly decorated, featuring a strobe-light thing on the floor that cast psychadelic patterns onto the walls, walls decorated with posters of WWE superstars and fast cars. A mini-fridge was stocked with only the finest in microwavable food items. The soundsystem blared Jock Jams at all hours, fitting music for the ‘Big Baynger Dunk Contest’ that took place near the emergency exit in the back. The decidely fun appearance of the bus was offset strongly by the sullen Aron Baynes.
‘The Baynes Bus’ had not been as succesful as he and his business partner, Henry, had anticipated. The idea was simple: pick up people off the street with promises of a rad time with Aron Baynes. In a bus. Despite the large amount of money invested into outfitting the bus with only the most fun stuff, the citizens of San Antonio were reluctant to board.
“Pull over here, Henry. This lady looks down for some Baynging.”
They stopped. Aron stuck his head out the window. A middle-aged lady, looking a little down on her luck, seemed puzzled by the appearance of a bright purple bus adorned with images of Aron Baynes and basketballs. “Hey, you wanna come on the Baynes Bus? We’ve got hot pockets!”
The woman boarded through the now open door. Wordlessly, she walked over to the mini-fridge, took out some hot pockets, and then walked out again.
“Hey, don’t you want to have some fun?” Aron shouted as she continued walking down the street. She didn’t seem to hear, and was soon gone around the corner.
Aron Baynes slumped back in his seat. “I don’t get it. If I were a pedestrian I’d jump at the chance to chill with the Baynger. Hand me another Four Loko, Henry.”