JOE: Stupid idiot!
NARRATOR: Joe was excessively angry at the idiot, so he proceeded to tailgate him. The idiot's name was Fred.
FRED: Hi! I'm Fred.
JOE: You're an idiot.
NARRATOR: Hang on there, Joe. You're in separate cars right now, and he can't hear you.
JOE: Phooey.
NARRATOR: So, Joe was following mere inches behind the idiot.
FRED: My name is FRED.
NARRATOR: So Joe was following mere inches behind the idiot named Fred.
FRED: I'm NOT an idiot!
NARRATOR: So Joe was following mere inches behind a man named Fred who is an idiot according to Joe.
FRED: Just eliminate the word "idiot," OK?!
NARRATOR: So Joe was following mere inches behind Fred, a man who Joe referred to with a derogatory term beginning with 'I'.
FRED: Just forget it.
NARRATOR: Ha ha!
JOE: Come on, let's get on with the story.
NARRATOR: So Joe was . . . well, hmmm . . . Ah! Fred, who may or may not be an idiot, was being tailgated by Joe, whom no one has yet referred to as an idiot.
FRED: Idiot.
NARRATOR: Joe, who has now been referred to as an idiot by Fred, was-
FRED: No, I meant you.
NARRATOR: Me?
FRED: Who else would I be speaking to?
NARRATOR: Joe.
FRED: He can't hear me, remember?
NARRATOR: Joe was tailgating Fred. Then, in a flash of good humor and tasteful wit, Fred decided that he would slam on the brakes.
JOE: Hey, wait a moment. That's not good humor OR tasteful wit. It's idiocy.
NARRATOR: I used sarcasm.
JOE: It's not a laughing matter. Besides, I could rear-end him.
NARRATOR: We'll have to wait and see what happens.
JOE: Well, keep going.
NARRATOR: Joe, whose degree of idiocy is yet undetermined, promptly smashed into the back of Fred's car. Fred now became very angry at Joe.
FRED: Grrr!
NARRATOR: Fred got out of his vehicle, madder than the proverbial hornet.
FRED: Buzz!
NARRATOR: Fred, however, did not SOUND like the proverbial hornet.
FRED: Grrr!
NARRATOR: Much better. Then Joe got out of his vehicle madder than a pitbull.
JOE: What?
NARRATOR: A pitbull. They get really mad.
JOE: Try something else.
NARRATOR: Joe got out of his vehicle madder than a bull.
JOE: Moo!
NARRATOR: Joe did not sound like a bull.
JOE: Grrr!
NARRATOR: ...but he looked like one.
JOE: Hey! I heard that!
NARRATOR: Dang it! We narrators can never say ANYTHING without EVERYBODY
hearing us. OTHER characters can say lines without anyone hearing them, but can we narrators?! Nooo, every little word we say gets-
FRED: Shut up.
NARRATOR: Sorry. Where was I?
FRED: We were both out of our vehicles, and possessing temperaments comparable to various stereotypically irritable fauna.
NARRATOR: What?
JOE: We are both out of our cars and very mad.
NARRATOR: Ah, yes. Well. Joe and Fred were out of their vehicles and very angered at one another. Fred approached Joe, incensed.
FRED: What?! I am no such thing!
NARRATOR: It means you're angry.
FRED: Oh. Grrr!
NARRATOR: Much better. Fred began arguing with Joe.
FRED: Did too!
JOE: Did not!
NARRATOR: Fred had a topic.
FRED: Why did you smash into the back of my car?!
JOE: You slammed on the brakes!
FRED: So?! If you had been following at the appropriate distance, you could easily have stopped in time!
JOE: Look, you idiot, you-
FRED: And that's another thing! You always call me an idiot! I have never called you an idiot. But I will now! Idiot!! IDIOT, IDIOT, IDIOT!!!
JOE: But YOU ARE an idiot! You cut me off in traffic for no reason! Rudeness like that should be punished.
FRED: By who, you?! Are you the justice department?
JOE: Well, how about we just call the whole thing off and go our separate ways?
FRED: No way! Look what you did to my car!
JOE: It's a Crown Victoria!! It's totally fine! Look, there's nothing wrong with it!
FRED: Look, the license plate is bent a little.
JOE: Ooohhh! It's not even part of your car!!
FRED: And there's a scratch on the bumper guard.
JOE: Big, fat, hairy deal! Look at my car! This is a brand new Bimmer! And look! The front end is totaled!
FRED: All the more reason for you to be more careful when you drive. Besides, I bet mine goes faster.
JOE: Yeah, right. Faster than my Bimmer?!
FRED: Sure it could. The engine is intact.
NARRATOR: OK, guys, that's enough.
JOE: I'm not done!
NARRATOR: Yes you are. So Joe and Fred were so angry that-
JOE: Idiot.
NARRATOR: ...so angry that they began damaging each others' cars.
FRED: Ha ha! I have a sledgehammer in my trunk.
JOE: I have an acetylene torch and a pickaxe in mine! Pbbbth!
NARRATOR: Pbbbth?
JOE: Yes. Pbbbth.
(CRUNCH!!)
FRED: Ha ha ha!! Take that, you foolish Bimmer!
JOE: Hey!!
(CRUNCH!!)
FRED: Ha ha, look at it! Look how easily I can put a huge dent in it!
(CHONK!!)
JOE: Oh yeah?! (fires up acetylene torch)
NARRATOR: So Joe and Fred began totaling each others' cars. At least, attempting to total them. Fred and his sledgehammer were wreaking horrendous damage to Joe's BMW, but Joe was not having the same luck.
JOE: Why can't I damage your car?!
FRED: I told you. It's a Crown Victoria. (removes passenger door of BMW)
NARRATOR: Joe had an idea.
JOE: Hey, Fred, wanna buy my car?
NARRATOR: Don't do it, Fred.
JOE: Hey! The narrator can't take sides!
NARRATOR: Sure I can. Watch. Fred, you have just totaled Joe's car. Buying that piece of junk would be totally stupid of you.
FRED: Yes.
POLICE: What seems to be the trouble here?
NARRATOR: Well, Fred cut Joe off, Joe got mad and-
POLICE: Shut up, Narrator. I asked these two idiots.
FRED: Look, officer, I appreciate you shutting up the narrator, but calling me an idiot was not very polite. I am SICK of being called an idiot. SICK, do you understand?!
POLICE: I didn't say you were at fault.
FRED: I never SAID you said I was at fault.
POLICE: May I please have the locations where you purchased your cars, respectively.
JOE: Don't you, um, want to know what happened?
POLICE: This is not an indicator of fault; just give me the locations where your cars were purchased.
FRED: Should we move our cars off the road? There's a huge backup.
POLICE: Just answer the question. I must follow procedure.
FRED: Oh, all right.
JOE: Edward's Autos.
FRED: My grandpa.
JOE: What?
NARRATOR: His grandpa.
(pause)
JOE: What?
POLICE: Can I see your drivers licenses and registration please.
FRED: Sure. Here.
JOE: I'll work on getting mine out of the glove box.
POLICE: Hey, nice car. Crown Victoria. Same kind as my cruiser.
FRED: Mine's not a police outfit, though.
POLICE: Well, you still have what, a 302 in there?
FRED: Yeah, but it burns oil.
NARRATOR: So Fred and the police officer talked about Fred's car while Joe attempted to extricate his registration from his car's smashed glove compartment.
JOE: What?! I'm doing no such thing!
FRED: It means you're trying to get your registration out.
JOE: Oh.
NARRATOR: Meanwhile, cars were backing up on the interst-
POLICE: Look, if you keep disturbing the peace and distracting me from my duty I'll have to arrest you.
NARRATOR: I'm the NARRATOR. I have to tell the story.
POLICE: I didn't say you are at fault.
NARRATOR: I know. I'm not.
POLICE: If you aren't a witness, you will have to leave. We can't have civilians hanging around the scene of the accident.
NARRATOR: OF COURSE I'm a witness!! I witnessed the whole thing! Heck, I gave a play-by-play as it happened!
POLICE: Please stand over to the side. I'll be with you after I do this paperwork.
JOE: Here it is!
POLICE: Thank you. (goes and sits in car)
FRED: Doo da da dummmmm!
JOE: What?
FRED: It was a fanfare. Indicative of triumph.
(longish pause)
JOE: How long is that cop going to sit in his car?
NARRATOR: Probably another hour. Stupid cop.
FRED: Hey, don't be mad at him. He's just doing his job.
JOE: Another hour?! Yeah right!!
FRED: Actually, he IS right, Joe.
JOE: Really? How do you know?
FRED: Oh, I've had my share of accidents.
JOE: With a different car, right? That one still looks brand new.
FRED: No, with this car. They can sit there in their cars, doing their paperwork, hardly moving, with their lights flashing, for up to two hours.
JOE: Are you serious?
FRED: I think it's an excuse for them to have their lights on.
NARRATOR: By this time, traffic was backed up for about three miles. There had been a much more serious accident a ways in, and an ambulance was trying to get through the cars, but meeting with little suc-
POLICE: Excuse me, we aren't ready for your testimony yet.
NARRATOR: I was narrating. It's my job. You do yours, I'll do mine, ok?
POLICE: I didn't say-
NARRATOR: I KNOW you blasted didn't say I was at fault!
POLICE: Please remain silent.
JOE: Hey, Fred, I think the narrator's getting ticked off.
FRED: He hasn't reached critical mass yet.
JOE: Isn't it called "hornet stage"?
FRED: Could be.
(longish pause)
FRED: Hey, Joe?
JOE: What?
FRED: Sorry I slammed on the brakes.
JOE: Well, I shouldn't have gotten ticked off at you.
FRED: And I'm sorry for completely demolishing your car afterwards.
JOE: I'm sorry for trying to demolish yours.
FRED: (extends hand) Friends?
JOE: Sure. (shakes hand)
JOE RANNE: I'm retarded!
FRED: Joe! Where the heck did you come from?
JOE RANNE: I ran.
NARRATOR: Very funny.
POLICE: If you're not a witness, I'll have to ask you to leave.
FRED: He's gone.
EDWARD: Wow! You totaled that one!
POLICE: Who are you?
EDWARD: I'm Edward.
POLICE: Edward's Autos?
EDWARD: No, just plain Edward.
POLICE: Oh.
EDWARD: I own Edward's Autos.
NARRATOR: Edward, I say you can't be in this story. Leave.
EDWARD: What?
POLICE: Don't worry, Edward. He's a civilian. I say you stay.
NARRATOR: He goes!
POLICE: He stays.
NARRATOR: Who has the real authority here?!
POLICE: I do. I'm a policeman.
NARRATOR: I'm the one telling this story!!
EDWARD: It's OK. I have to go back to England now anyway. Bye!
FRED and JOE: Bye!
NARRATOR: Who was that?
JOE: Edward.
NARRATOR: No, I mean why was he even here?
JOE: Who knows?
FRED: I don't.
NARRATOR: Done with that paperwork yet?
(pause)
JOE: I don't think he heard you.
FRED: He has selective hearing. It filters out insults and stuff.
JOE: Really?
FRED: Yep. Watch. HEY BIRDCRANIUM, YOU'RE A BIMBO!!
(pause)
JOE: That's amazing.
FRED: They haven't figured out how to filter out sarcastic compliments, though. HEY! I APPRECIATE THE SPEED AT WHICH YOU DO THAT PAPERWORK!!
POLICE: Thank you.
FRED: See? They don't recognize the sarcasm.
