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Your mom needs a serious going over by a psychologist, and your dad always seems to develop "wandering hands" whenever he gets a little beer in him, so despite what is sure to be a lesson in pain at the hands of androgynous singer Clay Aiken, you opt to ride shotgun with your sister. She agrees to take you to camp in her sporty red sedan, on the condition that you take the wheel whenever she needs to change CDs or provide dramatic gesticulation for her phone calls with her boyfriend. Eh, that doesn't sound too bad, right? Right. Things are going along smoothly for hours. Why, you'd almost be tempted to think that fate has finally dealt you the winning hand that you have so sorely needed. Unfortunately, things go awry, as they so often do in your stinking, cursed life. Just as Clay Aiken starts singing his cover of "Dragula," your sister yanks you over to take the wheel as she talks with her boyfriend. Eager for anything to take your mind off of Clay's feminine tones, you gratefully oblige her. You only catch a little of her conversation with her boyfriend as you hold the steering wheel in place (It sounds like she's planning to have a big night with him once she gets back). While she's in middle of scolding him for losing the can of frosting and the tube of tennis balls, you notice a construction zone fast approaching. You're about to tell your sister to slow down, but in her excitement, she hits the accelerator. You panic, and scream at her to hit the brakes. You catch her attention for a moment, and she stamps down with her other foot. Unfortunately, by hitting both the brake and accelerator pedals at the same time, she inadvertently opens a rift in space and time, and your puny red sedan is no match for the crushing force of the entire universe brought to bear on a single point. Or whatever.
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