After three meer hours of flight, Alan, and Harry reached Los Angeles.

Alan: *Watches the plane land*
Harry: First thing's first. Let's get our rental car, and go to our hotel.
Alan: Why did I let u talk me into renting us a Cadillac?
Harry: u didn't. I was going to rent one with, of without your criticism.
Alan: u just love those cars, don't you?
Harry: Don't you?
Alan: I prefer Corvettes. Why do u think it's the only car I've been driving since I was 17?
Harry: I'm not arguing with u Alan, we're here to have a good time.

They got off the plane, and proceeded to the rental car area.

Alan: *Walks into the garage with Harry* A rusty '41 Ford. Who the hell would want that?
Harry: Who drives cars from that jaar nowadays? Unless it was a hot rod.
Alan: Did u get a black coupe de ville?
Harry: Yeah.
Alan: Then that must be our car.

As they walked towards it, a 1956 Buick with squealing tires exited a parking space, and went towards the two men at top, boven speed.

Alan: Move!! *Goes left, pulling Harry with him*

The Buick drifted to the right.

Harry: Who was that?
Alan: Someone not driving a '41 Ford.
Harry: I'd like to point out that he nearly ran us over.
Alan: Will u calm down? I pulled u out to safety, didn't I?
Harry: well....he did look familiar.
Alan: Look, Harry, u zei it yourself. We're on vacation. Let's enjoy it. We have ten days to just take it easy, catch some sun, and do some of that surfing stuff u like.
Harry: You're going surfing with me after we check into the hotel.
Alan: Okay. Let's go there. u can drive.

With Harry driving the coupe de ville, the two men left the parking lot, and went to the hotel.

2 B Continued