Okay, I'll be the first to admit it might not have been the smartest move to bike across Broadway right then, although it was completely my right-of-way. But dude, you almost hit me when you pulled out. You almost ran me over with your TRUCK. I was actually very frightened, for my LIFE. So when you ignored your dowdy wife's pleas for restraint and instead flipped me both of your grubby middle fingers and shouted muffled, histrionic abuse at me, you officially became the ugliest person I've ever seen, and I happen to live next door to a home for retarded, morbidly obese quadriplegics. I get it—you drive a big, heavy car! How completely ordinary of you—you win! Congratulations, you pasty dough-faced golem.
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