"Officer McFly" the Desk Sargeant reprimanded, "I thought I told you this was the Lamborghini squad car, not the DeLorean squad car. The Lamborghini's speedometer reads in Kilometers Per Hour. Drive 142 miles per hour at a brick wall in that, and you're not going back to the future, you're gonna hit the brick wall."
Ben tossed his coffee cup-- miraculously unspilled-- across the dashboard. "Crap? Really Myron? We've only been on this international cop exchange for--" he checked his watch, "seven minutes, and that's the best you can come up with? What the--"
"Officers! Oh my gosh, are you alright?" The woman banged on the window and tried to open the door. "I'm so sorry! Oh my gosh! I-- I didn't see you!"
"Will you open the door before that lady has a heart attack?"
Myron nodded, fumbling around with the door controls. He was all limbs, and had irritated the hell out of Ben BEFORE this little mishap. Now Ben wanted to grab him by his gangly appendages and toss him into a canal.
Myron somehow managed to set the windshield wipers working. Ben watched as Myron's car seat moved him away from the steering wheel. The lights and siren went off. "Wow," Myron said. "I didn't think these things had lights and sirens!"
"You idiot! Stop moving! Stop trying to open that door, dammit! No, you idiot, it's a Lamborghini, you pull the handle IN! STOP! LET ME DO IT OR SO HELP ME--"
The door opened upward.
Myron, sweaty and panting, smiled.
"Get the hell out."
"Oh my gosh," the woman said. "You're not hurt, oh thank God! I don't know what happened. Oh my gosh, I don't speak Italian-- Me non... parla... crap, I'm sorry, I should have listened to those tapes."
"It's okay, ma'am," Ben said. "We're American."
"Yeah," Myron added. "We non parla crap either."
"Shut up."
"Sorry."
"I don't understand," the woman said. "Were you in the middle of a pursuit or something?"
"I don't understand either, ma'am." Byron grit his teeth. "Myron, maybe you can explain to the nice woman why, despite my screaming at you to get back on the right, you drove on the left side of the road."
"I thought... because we're in Italy... OH! Italians drive on the right side of the road, too! Good to know!"
Now, now, RJ. Let's not pile on "poor" Tiger. Although, what do you expect from a guy who's pick-up line is, "Ha, you think my drives are something, you should see my putts!"
B! How dare you make fun of my "Saucy Saturday"! hahahaha That is awesome! Where did you find that photo? LOL, I love it! Walt, I also love that you picked up with the Officer McFly thing again! hahaha
"Officer McFly" the Desk Sargeant reprimanded, "I thought I told you this was the Lamborghini squad car, not the DeLorean squad car. The Lamborghini's speedometer reads in Kilometers Per Hour. Drive 142 miles per hour at a brick wall in that, and you're not going back to the future, you're gonna hit the brick wall."
ReplyDelete"Crap."
ReplyDeleteBen tossed his coffee cup-- miraculously unspilled-- across the dashboard. "Crap? Really Myron? We've only been on this international cop exchange for--" he checked his watch, "seven minutes, and that's the best you can come up with? What the--"
"Officers! Oh my gosh, are you alright?" The woman banged on the window and tried to open the door. "I'm so sorry! Oh my gosh! I-- I didn't see you!"
"Will you open the door before that lady has a heart attack?"
Myron nodded, fumbling around with the door controls. He was all limbs, and had irritated the hell out of Ben BEFORE this little mishap. Now Ben wanted to grab him by his gangly appendages and toss him into a canal.
Myron somehow managed to set the windshield wipers working. Ben watched as Myron's car seat moved him away from the steering wheel. The lights and siren went off. "Wow," Myron said. "I didn't think these things had lights and sirens!"
"You idiot! Stop moving! Stop trying to open that door, dammit! No, you idiot, it's a Lamborghini, you pull the handle IN! STOP! LET ME DO IT OR SO HELP ME--"
The door opened upward.
Myron, sweaty and panting, smiled.
"Get the hell out."
"Oh my gosh," the woman said. "You're not hurt, oh thank God! I don't know what happened. Oh my gosh, I don't speak Italian-- Me non... parla... crap, I'm sorry, I should have listened to those tapes."
"It's okay, ma'am," Ben said. "We're American."
"Yeah," Myron added. "We non parla crap either."
"Shut up."
"Sorry."
"I don't understand," the woman said. "Were you in the middle of a pursuit or something?"
"I don't understand either, ma'am." Byron grit his teeth. "Myron, maybe you can explain to the nice woman why, despite my screaming at you to get back on the right, you drove on the left side of the road."
"I thought... because we're in Italy... OH! Italians drive on the right side of the road, too! Good to know!"
Nice Walt :) Anything referencing Back to the Future rocks!
ReplyDelete"Sorry, officer, your car looked like a ramp."
ReplyDelete"Sorry Sarge. I was in hot pursuit of Tiger Woods and..."
ReplyDeleteRJ FTW!
ReplyDeleteNow, now, RJ. Let's not pile on "poor" Tiger. Although, what do you expect from a guy who's pick-up line is, "Ha, you think my drives are something, you should see my putts!"
ReplyDeleteOr, "I may not be much of a driver, but I'm very good with my putts!"
ReplyDeleteOr...
B! How dare you make fun of my "Saucy Saturday"! hahahaha That is awesome! Where did you find that photo? LOL, I love it!
ReplyDeleteWalt, I also love that you picked up with the Officer McFly thing again! hahaha