'Ten Minutes Late for Reality' by Lou Morris (c) 1988, 1989, 1991, 2002, 2015. Fifteen:



                                 - Mary Elgort--commenting    
                                  on her unlucky chapter.

   The speed limit sign read "40 Mph" but you couldn't tell  
from all the cars speeding by.  Most people never paid any
attention to it.  Most cops never paid any attention to it
either.  Until now.
   He sat behind a bush on the edge of a dirt road that led
onto the main highway, munching on a powdered doughnut in his
police cruiser.  His radar gun was already warmed up, ready
for the speeders.  He sipped his complimentary coffee.  And
he waited...
   A blue Duster drove by, registering "45.7" on his radar
   A gray Malibu this time, only doing "50.1" miles per
   A red Corvette zoomed by, tripling the speed limit,
giving the police officer a good laugh.
   Not more than a few seconds later, a gold Riviera with a
brown drivers' door sped by in hot pursuit of the Corvette,
sending the radar display into triple digits.
   He sipped his coffee again...
   A tan LeBaron convertible zipped by with the top down,
doing "45" exactly.  The curly haired driver waved at the cop
and mouthed the words, "Cameo appearance."
   A dunk of his doughnut, and another sip...
   An ugly, green Dodge Dart crawled past.  The radar unit
proudly displayed "40.1."
   He smiled, tossed his coffee cup and wrapper out the
window, flipped a switch and stomped on the gas pedal.
   Wee!  Whaaa, whir!  (Okay, you try to spell out a siren!)
   The green Dart pulled over to the side of the road,
scraping a pine tree in the process.
   The police officer pulled up behind the Dart, leaving his
lights flashing as he stepped from his cruiser.
   "Drivers licence, registration and insurance card," he
said coldly to the occupant of the cruddy Dart.
   "Hey!  I didn't do anything wrong!  What's the matter
with you?!" a very annoying voice replied.
   "Give me your drivers license, registration and insurance
card," the police officer demanded.
   "I'm not in the mood for this!" Mary Elgort whined,
shaking her hands in front of her face.
   "Now!" the cop demanded sternly.
   Mary hunted through her purse for her drivers license.  
She found it stuffed in a bag of loose salt.  Her
registration papers were easy enough to find--they were
folded up and stuffed in a crack to keep the passenger side
window from rattling.  Her insurance card was the
toughie--mostly because she didn't have any insurance.  She
told him about it, then handed him the other stuff.
   He shook the drivers license free of salt then read it
carefully.  "Miss Mary Elgort," he stated, "you were
traveling point one miles per hour over the posted speed
limit.  That's a speeding ticket for you, plus an extra one
for driving without insurance."
   "What!  You can't do that!"  She gave him the finger then
added, "You're a prick!"  A diplomat she is not.
   He smiled abruptly.  "What's this?" he asked, pointing at
the loose seat belt on the floor.  "That's a no seat belt
   "Hey!" Mary yelled, "That's not--"
   "Oh, and lookie here."  He pointed at the illegal little
yellow sign in the rear window that read, "I love what's his
name!"  "That's another ticket."
   And so on...

   An hour later, he drove off leaving Mary with a stack of
tickets that could choke Mighty-Mooch.
   Mary frowned at them.  She also frowned at the little
card the cop had handed her before leaving.  She read it

        "'This chapter has been brought to you by the
foundation to really piss Mary off.
    Have a nice day, you bitch.'

                             - Lou Morris--both the      
                              author and the              

   "Huh?" she said.  She didn't get it.  "Author?"  She
thought it over for a minute then dumped a packet of salt
into her mouth.  "Lou's a jerk!" she announced simply.  Then
she drove off, cackling wildly.