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The first amendment auditing Beaton brothers were heading to yet another downtown police station, when the 2022 Lexus they were driving hit debris on the freeway and blew the left, front wheel. The exploding noise from the tire and scary lurch of the front-end struck simultaneously.
"Shiiiiit!" The twins drawled together, disappearing into the accidental world of flying, slow Mo and silent.
Despite a sharp pull towards the median, Mickey managed to maintain control of the well-serviced vehicle and nurse the car across one lane of expressway onto the right shoulder. The moment the grating sound of denigrating rubber ended is the moment the siblings began decompression.
"Oh my god." Spikey whispered. "That was fucking insane."
Mickey slowly and deeply exhaled.
"Whoa," he said, "yeah, we almost went into that wall bro. What the fuck?"
"Exactly, wtf." Spikey agreed. "Good thing traffics light, that's all I can say."
"Oh, that's all you can say?" Mickey nervously joked. "We almost just died and all you can say is good thing traffics light?"
Spike gazed quickly at Mike, and the two burst out laughing.
When the guffaw ceased and the tension died, Spikey made his signature wtf gesture: Raising his hands palms up, shoulder high and satirically over-shrugging his shoulders. Then Spikey shot a calm gaze out the rolled down passenger window and announced, "Well, I'm glad it was."
"Yeah, me too brother." Solidly agreed the four-minute older Beaton boy.
Out of the blue Mickey shot his sinewy forearm across Spikey's powerful chest and sharply karate chopped the glove box open. Inside were DMV documents, maps, tissue paper, some keys, four cell phones and a Glock. Mickey grabbed up one of the cellies.
"Call Mitch, tell him we'll be late." Mickey said, nonchalantly tossing up the device. "I'll change the flat.
"No wait, bad idea!" Spikey insisted, gracefully catching the iPhone with one hand. "I'll change the flat, I'm on this side. You call Mitchy."
