The man strikes my back, and I brace for assault. But he is not attacking me. He is congratulating me.

“You did it! You conquered the mountain! Both of you!”

Before, he seemed hostile and dangerous. Now, he exhibits emotions I would describe as surprise and delight. He calls people from the kitchen, and he’s clapping and cheering and menacing anyone in Wiener Mountain who is not joining in.

I look down at my tray. There are only the thinnest smears of food grease left.

I did it.

Through this negative experience, I have learned that I am capable of more than I thought.

I do not know if learning this lesson is worth it, because my biofuel container is filled with food and pain.

ADA drags her finger through the grease on my tray and licks it.

The man presents us with two clean, white T-shirts that say “I Conquered the Mountain at Wiener Mountain.”

He shoos us off to the restrooms to change into them. It feels good to get out of my food-soggy shirt and into the T-shirt.

When ADA and I return from changing, he poses us with our defeated trays and takes our picture.

We have achieved fame, glory, and immortality.

Later, after we have left, I throw up a great deal of fame, glory, and immortality on the highway.

Chapter 11

WE HAVE BEEN ON THE road for fourteen hours now. The man at Wiener Mountain gave us a couple of Mini Mountains for the road, which we gladly gave to Proto, so his biofuel container is satisfied. He sticks his head out the window as Car speeds down from the mountains toward a broad, sandy plain below. The wind blasts air in his face, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, if his constant rarfing is any indication, he likes it. The fresh air also helps with the unpleasant odors filling Car. The odors are from ADA and me, and we are producing them as a result of having quickly consumed Wiener Mountains. Our biofuel containers are holding more biofuel than they’re designed to, and we are releasing waste products in gas form.

“Do you have any waste you wish to dispose of?” Trashbot says.

“I do not believe that would be a good idea right now, Trashbot.”

Trashbot does not know how to respond to this, so Trashbot just makes a clacking sound, as if he is trying to chew without having anything to chew.

“Car, roll up windows,” ADA says.

Car complies and the windows whir up.

“Why did you do that?” I inquire of ADA.

“Dirt particles were hitting my face.”

“Thank you for answering. Car, roll windows down.”

Car complies and the windows whir down.

“Why did you do that?” ADA inquires of me.

“Don’t you find the smells we are producing unpleasant?”

“I do not,” ADA says. “I switched off my scent detectors.”

“You can turn off your sense of smell?”