There we were, driving in the racing red PT Cruiser along 7 miles of highway toward home when all of a sudden, the car accelerated without pressing the pedal.
What the hey?
Michael was at the wheel, both feet on the brake, asking me what he should do while the car rushed down the highway.
What do I know about cars?
I asked if he thought he could make it home safely. He said if he kept stepping on the brake he could. I told him I thought we should get home before we turned the car off in case it wouldn't turn on again.
Oops.
We called Bob only after we reached town, after the smoke, the smell of burned rubber that would rival the turns at the Indie 500, after the flame in the wheel.
Rather than take a picture of the fire, I ran to the house in the background for water to put it out, but no one answered the door. So we used what was left in my water bottle to extinguish the flame. (See wet spot next to tire. It isn't pee.)
The next day, I drove the car with all its Batman regalia in for repairs (gliding through stop signs with my feet shoved against the brake, just managing not to crash into the building.) They removed the piece of plastic that had lodged against the accelerator.
They said there wasn't any other damage.
Excuse me? Didn't I explain the part about the FIRE?
Yes, ma'am, but Michael's amazing super hero car is in good working condition.
Who needs a Batmobile when you have a PT Cruiser?
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