writers cramp

i looked about for the tell tale flash and wail that would signal me need to run very fast very quickly. the houses to my left and right were all swicthed off and shut up for the night. at nine thirty on a friday night this could only mean i had entered the suburban hell.
the suburbs are a bad place to get caught when evading societies finest. they seem to be designed to keep the public in and the element out. how had i got here well that was debateable but i knew how i was getting out.
and then there she was. a nineteen sixty nine corvette stingray in midnight blue. easily identifable but far too cool a car to be caught in to let pass by. i could just imagine the boys inside reading the paper on monday when the journo's got hold of the story.
an unnamed man believed to be linked to the robbery at the national art gallery was caught in a stolen nineteen sixty nine corvette stingray with several million dollars worth of stolen artwork and a statue of ronald mcdonald. why the statue. well when you're thieving everything looks good. i still feel sorry for that poor teenager. but hey anyone who threatens to call the cops deserves to die.
but back to the wheels. the paint job, the interior, the mags, all of these were infinetly more attractive then an orgy involving paris hilton, lindsey lohan and the olsen twins. i reached inside and popped the boot before using one of my many trade secrets to start the beauty up. she growled like a woman on heat who was about to be satisfied for the first time in her life. "thats right baby" i said quietly "were going for a ride" trying with all my might to emphasise the innuendo.
she gave another quick growl of approval and i jumped into the front seat. when i did i realised the owner was sleeping off a stupor in the passenger seat. if i woke him he would threaten to call the cops and the stingrays white upholstery would no longer be pristine so i jammed the car in reverse did a stunning 270 degree flick out of the driveway and floored the beast in the general direction of the stash point.
sometime during this stunning piece of getaway driving the poor owner woke up and started wondering what was happening. i decided to save his life and throw him out of a moving vehicle before he did something stupid like call the cops.
that was when the cops showed. rather than risk a head on with three cop cars that would write my sweet little corvette off i decided to hand myself in. a stolen car would see me in the remand center for a day till a court date was arranged. meanwhile the corvette would be sequestered as evidence till the owner was contacted. given the speed he hit the ground he would be in hospital for at least a week. i would get a good six days to search the impound lot and rescue my little baby.

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