A scene from the road, in my head
ANGRY CYCLIST: Hey, shithead, use a turn signal!
SHITHEAD WHO CAN’T USE A TURN SIGNAL: What? Why?
AC: Because I nearly crashed into you. When you don’t use a turn signal the guy behind you, believe it or not, thinks you’re not turning. And when that guy turns out to be on a bicycle, the space you fill by turning without warning is the space the bicycle was about to fill. In another half second you would have creamed me.
SWUATS: Why don’t you just stay behind me instead of coming up on the side?
AC: Because then I would have had to have come to a complete stop right at the moment the light turned green, which I had to do anyway to avoid being killed by you. Besides, you really want me to fill the lane every time? You want to be the car stuck behind the biker going 18 miles an hour down the middle of the street next time? Of course I’m pulling to the right of you. It’s courtesy. So’s a turn signal.
SWUATS: It’s not my fault. You don’t even belong in the street. Just stay on the sidewalk.
AC: I’m sorry, since you’ve said that, I can’t allow you to live. Flemmi?
SWUATS: What’s that supposed to mean? Hey, who’s that?
AC: Flemmi is an ex-Interpol assassin I’ve hired just for this imaginary conversation.
SWUATS: Wait a minute, this is happening in the middle of the road? Where did you hide a French mercenary?
AC: it’s my imaginary conversation. When you have your own you can do what you want.
SWUATS: But *ACKKK*
AC: Choke, Flemmi, choke!
AC: And hey, you; you’re next. Come over here.
GUY WHO HAD TO SLOW DOWN TO TURN RIGHT INTO A PARKING LOT BUT COULDN’T UNTIL ANGRY CYCLIST FINISHED PASSING, AND THEN LEANED ON HIS HORN BECAUSE OF THE IMPOSSIBLE INCONVENIENCE OF HAVING TO ARRIVE .7 SECONDS LATER THAN HE WANTED TO: What? What did I do?