The Police Chase

Driving down I-95 in my Chevy Cavalier, I noticed I was being followed. I glanced into the rearview mirror and my heart squeezed a moment as I saw sirens. But then I realized my initial assessment was incorrect. The blue Taurus, which was following me, had a ski rack. A red and blue ski rack, made of glass.

I found this odd. Perhaps he was patriotic? Or maybe Russian. Or worse, French. I decided it was a French guy, but why he had a French colors on a ski rack while driving behind me in New Hampshire, I could not explain.

I continued driving and he stayed behind me. My mind drifted and soon, as my foot stayed on the gas. As I was riding a unicorn through verdant meadows, under a golden sky as the newborn sun began its approach, the speedometer was inching upward. When I snapped back to reality, I was doing ninety.

The Taurus behind me, the French dude, had lights coming from its ski rack. Flashing in French patriot colors. He was tailgating me, so in irritation, I pulled over to the slow lane let him pass. I cannot stand tailgaters. To my dismay, this clown stayed behind me.

This continued for a few miles. The French driver was getting irate. His ski rack was now wailing loudly and I was wondering why would you add a siren to a ski rack? Anti-theft device? Skis are expensive, but why would you set it off while you're tailgating someone? Especially since he wasn't carrying skis.

Now irate, I pulled over and came to a stop. He stopped behind me. Then the French clown came out of his car, inexplicably wearing a cop costume, looking very put out. He approached. I saw he had a gun, and not wanting to have my car stolen, I stepped on the gas and peeled out. The French guy ran back to his car and he began to chase me!

I flew at about 90 miles, trying to get this cop-disguised thief off my back. I could now see that not only had he stolen a cop uniform, he had also taken the time to paint the State Trooper emblem on his Taurus. I wondered why a French car thief would undergo such deception. He stayed behind me. For miles he chased me, he was truly desparate to steal my decrepit Cavalier! So I slammed on the brakes and he rear ended me. The force was so strong that my airbags blew and the car went off the road and into a ditch. The shock was so great, I loss consciousness.

I woke up, in a hospital, held hostage by a bunch of men in cop-costumes. I do not know what they want, and I do not know what became of my car. As soon as my wounds heal, I intend to escape!