In every sense.
I’m driving the
thing that is not a redRam 1500 with a Hemi and a touchscreen that I REALLY want car to the office. Around the corner, I see a parked Camry with a critical ass implosion. It’s like my neighbors’ kids after one of their constant DR calls. Plus it’s a Camry: a crash is an improvement.
What are the odds that some drunk did a similar hit and run 23 years later. Hmm.
So I turn the corner, on the way to the gas station.
Oh Look! It’s a Toyota Matrix with equal and opposite damage!
OK, this is too much. Time for the camera. I am either saving the Camry from a dumbass, plus the grief that I carry, or I am fucking up a conspiracy to hide a DUI/hit and run. In each case, I still get a story to run.
Jesus! Look at that wheel. That is NOT how you play curbhunter!
Now it all fits! Hopefully, a call to the local PD will get this straightened out for both of them. Karma will be happy that two generic Toyotas are pulled from the commuting gene pool. I can be happy that some dumbass doesn’t get away with it, because of
those meddling kids your author.
(Seriously, Mr. hit and run – there were two much closer unused alleys where you could have rolled it. We would have never seen it.)