Don’t go over 25! What are you, a maniac?

He knew that the deal had been too good to be true. A champagne gold Buick, only driven by a little old lady to church on Sundays? Roy gritted his teeth and tried to floor the accelerator to pass someone.

The speed limit here is 30 for a reason, better stay a few under just to keep out of trouble.

Roy should have known something was up when he found himself leaving the blinker on for an entire trip, or when he’d had a sudden desire to shop at the Piggly Wiggly–an hour away in good traffic.

Can never be too careful with all those teenagers on the road.

Pulling to the left in a turn, Roy found himself taking the long way to avoid a street that had a few kids loitering on it. The surface streets dropped the speed limit from 30 to 25, so Roy naturally dropped his own speed to a glacial 20, barely above idle. People began to swerve around the Buick wherever they could squeeze themselves.

They’ll regret being such speed demons when the cops catch them!

As he pulled into the parking lot and grabbed his clutch before making for the powered scooters, Roy sighed. It was too late, now; he was thoroughly possessed by the spirit of the old lady that used to drive the car.

Don’t forget your coupons! Is it all right to pay with a check?

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