Er…. someone told me about the following – and I thought I’d share it with the EPautos Army.
A guy was driving up a windy mountain road at a spirited clip, well in excess of Cloverific velocities. There were no other cars on the road at the time (this fact is important, keep it in mind). The guy completed his apexing and drifting, arrived at the top of the mountain – where the road becomes dead-arrow straight for about two miles.
A glance in the rearview gave him pause.
A white SUV was suddenly back there, about a quarter-mile.
And, closing the gap.
Our friend knew that given the speed he was driving, the white SUV was really moving. Alarm bells began to clang in his head. The smell of bacon was in the air.
No wig-wags were on… yet. But our friend knew it was only a matter of seconds. The putative porker was probably hoping he’d not been noticed and was attempting to get closer. Given the speeds exceeded by our friend (and the harshness of the punishment meted out for such in this state) the PP may rightly have surmised that an attempt to flee would ensue once the wig-wags came on. Better to wait until he caught up and at least got close enough to get a license plate number.
But our friend was wise in the ways of the force. He knew what was coming – and the critical importance of breaking contact immediately.
The road was his ally. A curve gave him the opportunity to really put the hammer down – and get out of visual range. Then – in homage to Burt Reynolds in his black and gold ’77 Trans-Am – double back up a country road, skeedaddle up a long private driveway – which happened to overlook the main road – and shut ‘er down and lay low.
Moments later, an extremely angry porker in a white porkmobile rocked past – and below – our friend. He could see – but not be seen. A beautiful thing.
Now. Get the hell out of there.
And home he went.
Without a piece of payin’ paper (much less a cuffing and stuffing).
I salute you, whoever you are 😉
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