drifting away…
The Marquis wasn’t always crashed. By Buicks. Or curbs at Bilbo’s. It wasn’t always bald, as the vinyl roof got peeled off like it was a meth addict.
The driver, on the other hand, was always a dumbass, Player Mmenthols notwithstanding. Or QED.
It’s late at night. You’re buzzing in your new (old) Marquis after another night of not getting laid.But, you’ve dropped your smoke – probably a Player Menthol at that. It’s lit, and you don’t want to waste it. Plus, your gas tank leaks a little, and the inside of the car sometimes smells like the inside of your carburetor. So stop the car and dig for that cigarette – right there in the middle of the highway. Surprisingly, the passing cop will notice that you have stopped in the stupidest and most illegal place possible (that is still a road).
Luckily, “dude, I dropped my smoke and I have to get it at all costs before my car catches fire and explodes” only prompts a “get moving,” and not a DUI. You are a Jedi master, apparently.Although your powers have no effect on alien beings. Like women.
