A Fuel-Injected Suicide Machine

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My car tyre burst when I was in a scummy area called Birkenhead and I quickly found myself truly fucked. Due to my stinginess I didn't have a spare one and so had to call some nearby shop to send somebody to help me. As it turns out they sent a full-on fucking psychopath who picked me up and drove me down small suburban roads at about 60mph whilst detailing his plans for a new civil war. Genuinely. He’d been out of prison for seven days and already he was planning a revolution in which 'the whites fight all the blacks'. He believed that foreigners were coming over and stealing all of our jobs to the point were he told me 'I don't blame my kids for being fucking drug dealers'. I had never been so terrified in my entire life. He asked me if I knew any shortcuts between where I'd been stranded and where we were going which I sadly didn’t- “How da fuck do you expect to get away from da police if you don't know your short cuts?!” was his response. The Mad Max franchise might consist of adrenaline fuelled action films in which nutters drive through desolate areas at high-speeds, but it hasn't got shit on being helped by an ex-convict from a working class town in the North of England. I literally shat myself.