Choose Your Own Nuthouse
Ahh, smoking and talking on the cell while driving. Brilliant! You obviously aren’t the smartest person, but it’s your life.
You reach over to the passenger seat and grab one of your Luckies out of the box, light it, then grab your cell phone. You dial Dave’s number (Dave being one of your friends who should already be at Beautiful Lake Doomhole™).
The voices coming from the radio seem to be getting louder as you wait for Dave to pick up.
“Hey yo! Yo, Creepy voices! Keep it down, I’m trying to make a call!” you shout at the radio.
The volume of the voices decreases to a bitter mumble.
Dave apparently doesn’t want to answer his phone because you get his asinine voicemail message. You hate voicemail so you don’t leave a message.
Once you hang up, the voices begin getting louder. Once again, you think you hear your name. Once again, it doesn’t phase you in the slightest. Damn, you’re a stud.
A stud that forgot to fill up the car before you left. Your car slowly dies and you pull off to the side of the road.
No choice but to walk the rest of the way. By your reckoning it should only be about another 5 miles. Up hill. You start regretting your personal habits as you light another cigarette.
After about a quarter mile headlights appear behind you.