What the??? How did the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile get onto the grounds of the Marin County fair? How did it know I was here? Oh lord--it didn't see me eat those two generic-brand corn dogs, did it? It's not my fault! I didn't even want corn dogs! But the line for funnel cakes was too long!
Hey, hold the mustard. That man in the white shirt just walked up to the behemoth, and it's not attacking him. Maybe all it wants is to be friends. Could it possibly be that the Wienermobile has come in peace? A friendly ambassador from the land of B-O-L-O-G-N-A?
Maybe if I just walk up to it--well, it could just run me over--but then again, maybe it will wink at me with one of its headlights, like Herby the Love Bug! And maybe even it will open one of its doors and I'll jump in and then it will leap into the sky and we'll sail off through an explosion of rainbows into the wild, blue yonder! I could spend the rest of my days eating hot dogs while flying around, searching the world over for Osama Bin Laden, just me and my flying wienermobile! Okay, let me give it a try...
Ouch, my ribs and spine!
I forgot rule number one when dealing with evil cars: when they say, "Hey, could you help me find my contact lens?" Just ignore them. Do not get down on the ground in front of it to look.
Curse you, delicious marketing spokescar!