Mysterious Impact

Tim is being elusive about the destruction of the probe. I want all the metal smashing details. I want to know exactly what he was thinking at the moment of impact. Did he fear an untimely death at the hands of the SUV that, undoubtedly, loomed large over the hood of his tiny white shitmobile. Did he wet his pants, or soil himself in any other fashion, when he heard the sounds of metal colliding with metal? Did the glass from his windshield shatter on impact? Did fragments break off and rip into the flesh of his face and head? Was there blood left staining the blue cloth seats, or the twisted blue dashboard? Is he in pain? Even now, his face may be marred by fragments of metal and glass. There could be shrapnel left in his skin for months, even years! This could be a life-changing event in little Timmy's life. He may never be the same. He may never drive again! His fear of accidents may become so severe that he could never get behind the wheel again, for the rest of his living days. Tim could be purchasing a bicycle next week, and that would be his only form of transportation other than his little footsies. He'll have to wobble home from the bar, tightly gripping the handlebars, trying to keep it on the sidewalk. Of course, if he has to vomit all he'll need to do is stop pedaling and lean over.

Yeah, its gonna be a rough life for Tim from here on out. Maybe we could just find a lifestyle that avoided automobiles all together? We could join an Amish colony. They might not take too well to our drinking habits, though. Maybe we could just become pirates. We'd have no need for a car. We could just cruise international waters on speedboats and jetskis, attacking wayward cruiseliners. Yeah! Like those big carnival cruise bastards! The ones that Kathy Lee Gifford is always pimping out. They would just be putting along, eating lobster and talking about their stocks and mutual funds; not realizing they just entered international waters. Then, WAMMO! Pirates, off the starboard bow! Captain 'skurvy dogg' Dicks swings in wearing nothing but pajama pants and an eyepatch. He has a dagger between his teeth and he looks pissed as all hell!

"We've come fer yer booty landlubbers!" he'd yell. Then he'd grab the ass of a nearby, hot, twenty-something female. Pearl necklaces, diamond earrings, wallets and watches would all fall at Skurvy Dogg's feet. His faithful crew of asswhippin' pirates would swing onboard behind him and bag up the booty. Then they'd all peruse the ship for some other booty they could bag.

Damn, Tim wrecking his car may be the best thing that ever happend to us.