Chief opened his mouth to tell Joe to fold it up right but thought better of it. He had bigger fish to fry: he had no driver’s license, no money, and no phone to communicate with the Boss if they got stranded or caught. They were already sticking out like a sore thumb with their giant pumpkin car, and they couldn’t afford to draw any more attention to themselves.

Chief shifted the car into drive, looked in the rearview mirror, and carefully pulled back out onto the street. 

Joe rolled down his window, hung his head out like a dog, and hollered, “Yahoooo!” Chief punched him in the arm and Joe stuck his head back inside. “What’s up, Chief? You want me to grab the wheel so you can try it, too? It’s a blast.” 

“No, you numbskull. We just passed a cop and you’re yelling out the window like a lunatic. Do you know what undercover means?” 

Joe opened his mouth— “That’s a RHETORICAL question, Joe!” Joe clamped his mouth shut, and Chief glanced in the rearview mirror nervously. The cop had stopped and was talking to some kids on the sidewalk. He sighed. They had gotten lucky this time. 

Chief flicked on his blinker, slowly turned left, and muttered, “This is going to take a miracle.” 

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