Shiny Side Down

It was actually a piece of shit, but my 1995 Chevrolet Caprice squad car could corner better than any Crown Vic. Nothing is happening one night so...Time to warm the tires up. Find a stretch of new pavement with a few curves and let her buck. Get a few miles done and the radio crackles to life: girl is gone and mom is afraid that she might be in a bad situation. I swing into the yard and hide my chariot, wait to see if girl comes home. I no sooner park when car pulls in, girl is in the passenger seat, some scroat is driving. Scroat sees me and takes off. I need a second to get the old Chevy pointed in the right direction and then I drop the hammer. Gravel road, get some speed going, little hill, T-intersection. Oops. Going too fast, can't stop in time, this is going to suck. The old anti-locks don't even slow me down. Try to make the corner. I get the car side ways and then I roll over. A huge post stops me from going all the way over and then it is quiet. I am shiny side down. Suspended from my seat belt blood fills my head. Seat belt won't release. Shit, I am stuck. Do a quick head to toe; no breaks, no missing pieces. The radio is dead, no cell phone coverage and I forgot my pocket knife that would have cut me free. Wedging my arm under the seat I manage to hold enough weight off the latch to finally get free. Crawl out of the side window that is now in a million sharp little pieces. Cut hand on glass, hike up to a farm house to use their phone. Think I freaked them out a bit as I bleed in their kitchen. This sucks, now I have to drive a Crown Vic.