After wandering through town a little, you finally locate the car impound lot. It's late and dark, and you wonder if you're going to have to break in to get the Van back. Just then, you notice some light inside the booth at the gate. As you near it, you can hear silent, repetitive grunts coming from the inside, and the glass is clouded from the inside with thick condensation. You cheerfully knock on the window. You vaguely hear the ringing of a belt buckle inside, an irritated snarl, and then the window is shifted aside in a violent gesture.

The bloated face of a police officer glares at you angrily. "WHAT DO YOU WANT?" he demands. Behind him, you notice a steaming flat-iron and a pair of rather amateurishly half-ironed officer's pants lying on a table.

"Good evening, officer. I'm here to retrieve my Van." you tell him, and give him an accurate description of Herman's Van, not omitting the you-shaped dent in its fender. The cop pulls up a brown file and starts fingering through it.

"White van, white van... ah, here it is. Oh-ho." the cop says, and starts to snicker. "I'm sorry son, we accidentally misplaced it."

You cock your head. "Misplaced how?" you inquire.

"Well, my colleague can't spell 'Mercedes', so he wrote down 'Van' in the 'to be demolished' field. Sucks to be you, boy."

You find yourself trying to decide whether you'll break down crying, or try and see how deep your fist will fit into the fat cop's face.

"Oh, hell son. I guess I should help you out here. It's late, after all, and... this neighborhood is haunted." he says, his eyes widening as he underlines that last word. "Follow me."

As he exits his booth through the side and beckons you to follow him, you try not to notice the fact that he has no pants on. Passing long rows of unclaimed cars, you finally come upon a clearing where four cars are parked closely together.

"Every now and then, we get stuck with some cars that no one shows up to claim." the cop tells you. "These babies have been standing here for some five to twenty years now. Now, let's play a little game: I'll let you drive one of these out of here, no questions asked." His mouth splits into a mysterious, slightly malicious grin. "Of course, you're stuck with whichever one you pick. No second chances. So, what's it gonna be, son?"

You decide to pick:

the Original Batmobile.	the Bundy Dodge.
Gravedigger.	the Ecto-1.