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It was a beautiful summer night. Their hair was blowing in the wind. Bob had the top down to the convertible, country music blasting, and Stacey lounging across the big seat, her head on Bob's lap while her bare feet dangling out the passenger side. They had left Talledega just after the race, fought the traffic to get clear, and now were heading on the home stretch. Well, going down Rt 29 through Alabama isn't exactly a "home stretch", but it beats going through Montgomery, and besides, cutting the back roads was routine for them in the day time.

It was just after 9pm, in the dark of night, when the headlights popped on, and then the flashing lights followed.

"Damn, where did he come from" Bob exclaimed.

"What's that?" asked Stacey.

"A freakn' cop.....that's what" Bob replied.

They slowed down, and Stacey got in the upright position.

"License and registration please" asked the cop. He was shinning the light straight in their faces, blinding both of them.

"What's wrong" Bob asked.

...

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