Faster Than A Speeding Bullet

That was me, today. And I didn’t get a ticket, either. I had it all planned out, though, what I would say to any cop that decided to stop me. You see, it all started when the phone rang. The caller ID said it was my father’s cell phone. I picked it up and it was my sister.

“Ah, you’re finally out of the hospital and on your way home!”

“Yes but there’s a little problem. Do you still have my key? I don’t have my house key and Dad doesn’t have one, either.”

I immediately did the proper thing – laughed hysterically. I pictured my father trying to climb into a window. Then, after I finally stopped laughing, I jumped into my Batmobile. I couldn’t have my poor, weak sister sitting in a car for half an hour or 40 minutes while I drove over there. Thus, the need for the Batmobile. I made it there in 20 minutes and didn’t get stopped. Like I said, though. I had it all planned if I did. I was going to be quite calm with the police.

“Hey, you can keep me here all day & I don’t mind. Just have someone drive over to my sister’s house to bring her this key. I bet you can go real fast with those little flashy lights.”

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One Response to Faster Than A Speeding Bullet

  1. katy says:

    They love it when you use technical terms like little flashy lights. Don’t forget to use tears in case of a real emergency.