The impact crumples the cruiser like a tin can, sending it spinning across the road and into the railing.
The other car backs up and disappears down the lane, clearly not considering the chase worth it after witnessing such a gruesome spectacle.
Cheers erupt from the car.
YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
THAT’S MY NIGGA!! THAT’S MY FUCKIN’ NIGGA, MAN!! FUCKIN’ STRAIGHT!!
^Mane, I ain’t neva seen anything like dat in my life. Shit was like a Beyblade.
Forreal! That thing a got damn tank!
<Yeah… he gon have to ditch it though. Too recognizable.
Oh yeah, shee, that camo.
^Yup.
<Man, you serious? Why we have to ditch that thing? It’s badass!
To get the police off your trail, Big Samson takes a route through the highway’s underground tunnel system. The immediate threat gone, you permit yourself a measure of relaxation.
Lil Doorknob pipes up.
<Hey, let’s get some Mickey D’s!
^Nigga, we has to go patch up Low Life’s wounds. He hurt pretty bad. Aint got no time for McDonald’s. We gotta go to, uh, Walgreens.
<Oh, okay, word.
^’Sides, I like Long John Silver’s better. Maybe we could get some after.
<YOU MUTHAFUCKA!! I’LL FUCKING CAP YOU NIGGA!!!
Shit, McDonald’s don’t sound too bad.
^Whateva mane. They nuggets taste like cardboard.
<THAT’S WHY YOU PUT THE SAUCE ON THEM, DUMASS!!
^A good nugget don’t need no sauce.
<Oh my god mane…
You soundin’ kinda like a whitey.
^Look. Y’all seen my gumbo, I likes spice as much as any of you. But sauce is ‘sposed to complementarize the flavor, not destroy it.
Destroyin’s cool though. I likes destroyin’ my food.
<Ayo, word! DESTRUCTION!
^You niggas are a lost cause.
