As you approach the janitor's car, you admire his amusing selection of bumper stickers: "Eat me, Jeffrey Dahmer", "Serial killers do 7 people a year" and "If this car's a rockin', don't come-a lookin' in the trunk cause I stashed a hitchhiker in there." Having seen plenty of movies on the subject of stealing cars, you're confident that you can break in and hotwire the janitor's car. The parking lot is utterly abandoned, and you suddenly realize that you neglected to take the wire coathanger out of your shirt when you put in on yesterday. For once your shameful incompetence comes in handy, as you fashion the coathanger into a long hook with which to open the car door through the narrowly opened driver's window. Once inside the car, you clumsily break open the underside of the dashboard and damn near electrocute yourself trying to connect the right wires. Somehow your deformed perspective of reality pays off, because the car grunts to life and awaits your command. You race off the parking lot to continue your journey!

Unfortunately, not half a mile out of town, you're being tailed by a police car. Pretty soon the cop turns on his lights and signals you to pull over. The car you're in isn't exactly Greased Lightning, so you decide to pull a stop and hope for a chance to bring this to a good conclusion. Nervous sweat begins to flow from all your pores as the cop pokes his head through the driver's window.

"Wha... uh, what seems to be the trouble, officer?" you stutter. "This car wouldn't happen to have been reported stolen, would it?" You were never good in stressful situations. "I mean, that would really come at a bad time, what with my driver's license being expired and all."

The cop cocks an eyebrow and asks you to step out of the car. Afterwards, he takes a deep whiff inside the car.

"What's that stench?" he asks you.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I spilled my beer on the passenger's seat while I was lighting up my bong. Good thing I wasn't wearing my seatbelt, or I might've set myself on fire. Speed limits are for losers, right?" Hearing you say this, your tongue searches in vain through your mouth for a cyanide molar.

"No, I think the smell is coming from the trunk." the cop says, and walks to the back of the car. He asks for your keys and pops open the trunk. A godawful miasma of assembled smells exhumes itself from the car.

"Well, son. Got any excuses for there being a rotting body in your car?" the cop says, drawing his gun and aiming it at you.

You try and think of something clever to say. "See you in HELL, pig!" you exclaim, and make a break for it. You can almost hear the cop shake his head as he sends three bullets through your body. As you lie face-down in the dirt, you hear the cop walking up to your rapidly dying body. "Good thing I didn't tell you about my unpaid parking tickets." you manage to gurgle before your ruined body finally gives up its stupid struggle.

START OVER, YOU GURGLING GEEK!