So. I’ve finally met one of my neighbors. She looks exactly like my friend Kelly, and has a similar personality. Her name is Kelly. Anyway, she invited me out to a lake with her buddies for the 4th of July. It was a lovely time. Her buddies got caught with an open booze container and got a ticket, and despite not having indulged, I suggest we pass the hat. Since there were ten of us, a fine ruinous to one would become but a nuisance to ten. And let’s face it, had I planned ahead and hitched a ride, I’d have been bilged to the gunnels, as it were. The guy who got the ticket takes the $5 from me, and points out that all the others might have offered, but would never pay up. They were right there, but didn’t disagree. So. There that was.
Anyway, I’m driving home, and I make a wrong turn that I don’t realize right away is a wrong term because there’s a detour. So I get turned around, I’m back on roads I recognize, I’m just north of a village called Dexter, and I see three white streaks rocket out across the road in front of my truck. They’re making this weird whistling sound. I immediately assume someone is shooting at me, so I scrunch down in the passenger seat and floor it. I pop my head back up just in time to avoid an impromptu off-road experience. All of a sudden there’s a sound like God slamming a toilet seat, and the whole world turns red, then green, then red again. It’s like I’m driving a kaleidoscope down the road.
It’s about this time that I realize someone was shooting roman candles diagonally across the road in front of me. It scared the high holy hell out of me, but I decided not to stop and push the issue. On the outskirts of Ann Arbor something similar happened, but I think it was a misfire that was directed vertically and went off a hundred feet off the ground.
If I catch you shooting rockets off at cars, I’ll hit you with a crowbar. The end.