A Fresh Spring Crash

On Saturday night I was meeting some friends from college for a dinner, followed by drunken Guesstures and deep conversations about ear wax and its incredible healing properties.

I was on my way to the restaurant when I encountered a familiar sight. That rapscallion Jimmy Dillnuts somehow got his licence back, and was on another destructive rampage.

Police directed traffic away from the accident while firefighters and witnesses stared at the wreckage of the black Mercedes. They were probably amazed that it suffered so much more crumplage than the plastic Cavalier which was also involved in the crash.

I could tell the cop directing traffic wanted to beat my ass for being so insensitive about the situation - so I avoided him by crouching on some stairs in order to take pictures.

I thought it rather humourous, and ironic, when I saw this sign in the background (on the right). I giggled a little bit, then turned around and headed back to my car.

That's when I ran into trouble. All of the occupants of the crunked vehicles were standing outside the restaurant where I had parked. The intense, angry stares were nearly enough to make me smash my own camera. Just kidding. But the daggers they shot at me were truly vicious.

I ducked as I sped away, causing no less than seventeen accidents as I made my slow, hybrid-style escape. At least the police and fire crews were handy.