The catcall opened Harvey’s heavy eyes and he quickly tried rectifying the wheel.
“Are we there yet?” his daughter asked sarcastically as Harvey fought with the highway’s shoulder.
Cruel and evil like her smart-ass mother he fantasized putting his hands around her chicken neck and squeezing for all he was worth.
“He drives like he does ev-er-y-thing else,” said his wife “sleepy, slow and stoooo-pid”.
And Harvey sunk even lower into his seat.
Exit 181, 1/2 mile ahead... sat the Pee Dee rest stop.
Where Harvey reclaimed his manhood, slipping out the backdoor and into the woods right after flushing the keys.