L Con thinking to himself:
Oh, Holy Xenu, what the hell am I doing? This is my 5th meatbody
and I still haven't won this damn race. Between the atom bombs
and confusing racetrack layout I'm at my wits end.
BOOM!!!
There goes DM, I'll probably see him again in my next life...sigh.
Weird little fella, he looks so funny sitting on top of all those
phone books inside his car.
What I should do is start a religion. No atom bombs and the hours
would be better. I could buy a boat and name it the Apollo while
the money pours in. Hmmmm....yeah, I could do it, write some
cheesy book to kick the whole thing off. Claim everyone not agree-
ing with me is insane and watch my drones make me millions.
Yeah, this has potential! Ron ole boy, you've out done yourself. Oh
shit, what's that in the road......
Ron? Ron, wake up. It's time for your vistaril shot. Oh my, time to
change your diaper, someone's made a stinky. What were you chuckling
about while you were sleeping? Another drug induced marcab hallucination
again? We need to change your meds soon. I swear, you came up with some
funny crap to fleece those people.........