"I'm going, but my puke stays on!", You tell Mot and saveing face. He wails "No NO NO". You just keep on walking, serves him right for not digging your music. You play your harmonica slowly to yourself as you walk down that long weary road. A sad blues song your grandmother played to you on unsettling rainy nights. You should have played Mr. Howe this song instead, but hindsite is 20 20. You hear a police siren getting closer and you hope the fucker didn't call the cops on you. A orange Huffler brand stationwagon is burning up the road, doing about a hundred and fifteen. This is a sports station wagon very expensive. The man driveing hurls a suitcase out the window as he blurrs by, the police car rounds the corner and is hot on his tail. You walk over and pick up the suitcase. You walk a little faster and find a wooded area to hide in. You open up the suitcase and it's full of bricked cocaine in little baggies! Looks like about forty thousand doller's worth!