Smokey Mountain Breakdown

I don't know anyone who drives a Toyota but I can only imagine how awful it must be to be looking at your mild-mannered Japanese import turned serial killer in your garage--wondering when it's going to cut you up into tiny pieces and stuff you in its trunk. It must be very stressful to have one of these cars about now.

I go pick up my paper down the driveway today. I'd taken a drive because we were without power for most of the day (I know, big surprise). I was cold. It's Thursday's Newport Pie Hole--it's delivered late in the day and The Pie Hole isn't all that urgent a paper that it's important for me to read it hot off the press. It's a dish best served cold. And a little soggy. Of course, Newport would put it's own spin on the Toyota thing.

The headline reads:

Yes, that's right. A 2008 Camry LE ran amuck on the streets of Newport and of all the places it could have attacked, it chose the funeral home. Ran itself right into the lobby.

Of course, it could have been much more serious. There could have been a casket with a body the car hit, throwing the body up into the air so it landed in a crowd of horrified mourners. The immediate family might have screamed out the deceased's name and the funeral directors would be so shocked that their pleasant expressions might have slipped. Finally, the evil, possessed vehicle might have come to rest right in the middle of a "Jesus Calls" floral arrangement--it's spinning wheels spraying crushed mums and lilies all over the place. None of that happened, of course. But it could have.

The driver is okay so, yeah--I'm snickering a bit. It's just so Cocke County.