Instant Switch - Dictated by Dr. James "The Jedi" Johnson, PhD Disclamer: He is not a certified physician.- Typed by Josiah "Banana Bread" Johnson

It was a Tuesday in New York City. I was driving my Lincoln to work at Enterprise Rent-A-Car, which gives you the tools to be your own boss. I slowed to a stop at a red light. A suspicious group of hooligans was standing around at the corner to the front right of my car. They began to walk towards me. They all had the same color on, blue, identifying their gang. They also had matching blue hats and badges that indicated that they were members of the NYPD. For those of you who don't know, the NYPD is a large gang on the east coast, much like the Bloods and Cripps on the west coast. As they approached my car, I decided I had only two options; run or die. I floored it and turned left. The four of them jumped into a pair of black and white gangmobiles with stupid looking blue and red strobe lights on top, as if they were in a night club or something. The were gaining on me, so I had to think quick. I took a hard turn left and weaved through traffic to escape their clutches (meaning their grasp, not the mechanism used to engage and disengage the engine from the transmission in a manually shifted automobile.) I suddenly remembered that I had a pistol with three shots in the glove compartment. I pulled it out in a quick streak of genius, then fired off a few rounds into the sky to scare them off. It didn't work as well as I thought. Some of their friends joined in driving about 10 more police cars, and a few helicopters. I threw the gun out the window realizing I was out of ammo. In desperation, I began lighting fireworks and throwing them out the window. Although amusing, it posed no assistance in the current dilemma. I quickly made a turn onto a highway, south bound, and they all followed. I smacked the nitrous button for a quick burst of power, then I noticed I had no nitrous oxide and I just broke my radio. In my fear and rapid brainstorming, I came up with the idea to throw whatever debris out of the car I could to hinder their progress. I found a wrench, so I did the obvious thing. I steered with my left foot, operated the accelerator with my right foot, and with my hands I unbolted the passenger seat. After unbolting it, I opened my door and threw it at them, the wrench following. It cracked the windshield of one of the gang vehicles, but didn't seem to slow them. I took a quick turn off the highway, powerslided to the right, floored it down the street and took a right about thirty blocks down. I began to slow, reaching down to 25 mph from 214 mph, then casually drove into an alleyway. This proved an idiotic choice, since I had in no way lost the gang, in fact I had turned into the garage of their clubhouse. I was cuffed and imprisoned in their dungeon. After a week of plotting and shaping my eating utensils into lock picks, I picked my way out of the dungeon then ran out of the building as fast as I could. Nobody really seemed to care, so I hailed a cab and took a ride home. After reaching the destination, the offensively odored driver turned to me and said, "Well here we are, now give me the money." Realizing that he was attempting to mug me, I ran from the car into my house and locked the doors, then after seven hours of paranoia and hiding under my bed, I came out and had dinner. Overall it was a pretty ordinary experience. The moral? Forget it, if you read halfway down this entry and didn't say to yourself, "What an idiot." and exit out, you're obviously not looking for a story with a moral.