it is dark.  the wind starts to kick up.  i dismount my now impotent steed.  i think of when i saw “An American Werewolf in London” as a child, thinking that it was from the guys who do the Monty Python stuff.  Wrong.  i can imagine the wolves circling me now.... stranded on the moors....  this is not funny. 

hazards flashing...   i open the hood of the jeep...  yeah, that looks more like car trouble...  i walk back and forth nervously.  all that pass are 18-Wheelers, RV's and recycled K-cars...  would it be better to be in front of the car or behind it when some careless fuck drifts aimlessly to the right and smacks me right in the kisser...  i pace back and forth and finally stand on the rear bumper so’s i can jump, action hero style, over onrushing traffic...  landing safely out of harms way should someone care to take aim at me...
 
i wave wildly at all passing motorists...  the Big Rigs scream by, 3 trailers long, their jet wash shaking jeep and passengers wildly, briefly...  finally someone bites.