[ WP ] You 're driving a car , and have just been stopped by police . There 's a body in the back seat .

It's 3 am, I am driving the speed limit, my eyes barely open. The windows are all down.. not just to keep me awake but also to keep away the smell. That's right, there's a dead body in my back seat, and its been there awhile. 
 
 
 
 The long desert road is all but abandoned this night, my old rusted 1956 Plymouth Savoy roaring down the dusty highway. Then again, Route 66 is known for being quiet, that is probably why I am here. 
 
 
 
 Just as I am about to fall asleep at the wheel.. a loud noise wakes me up.. and upon opening my eyes am blinded by the flashing police car lights in my rear view mirror. I slowly pull over and off the road, my eyes momentarily glancing back at the huddled form underneath the dusty old Mexican horse blanket in my back seat. 
 
 
 
 The officer begins filling out paperwork and calling my vehicle in. I reach into my pocket feeling a rusted Colt Detective snub nose.38 revolver that has n't been fired in years. Even though its dark I am still wearing my glasses, they do a good job of keeping the dust out of my eyes, unlike the rest of me... chalk white from dust on the road. 
 
 
 
 The officer opens his car door and strolls over to mine. 
 
 
 
 `` License and registration please'' he says with a light southern drawl. 
 
 
 
 I take my dusty wallet out and hand it to him. Right as I am doing this the officer shines his light in my face. 
 
 
 
 `` Ditch the glasses please.'' I remove them with dirty fingers and squinting look towards his face obscured by his light. 
 
 
 
 It takes nearly five minutes of fumbling with my wallet and license and other papers before the officer curses and drops them as they all license, permits and cards fall apart.. even my wallet crumbles into pieces in his hands. 
 
 
 
 `` Whats the meaning of this?'' The officer demands...'' Show me your real wallet, or get out of the car!'' 
 
 
 
 I look over at the officer and open my mouth to speak, before I can say anything he loudly declares. 
 
 
 
 `` Alright! That's it! Get outta the car, NOW!'' he jerks open the old rusted door so hard that the handle falls off.the door opens anyways. `` Now get out'' he yells. 
 
 
 
 As he grabs me out of the car and spins me around cuffing my hands from behind. 
 
 
 
 `` What the hell is this thing?'' he asks taking out the rusted lump of my revolver before throwing it to the ground. 
 
 
 
 `` Sit over here!'' he drawls now more in command of the situation as I am led over to the hood of his squad car to sit as he turns back and begins to head toward my car. When he reaches it he encounters the same problem he had with my door.. the rust is pretty bad on all the doors and trim as well as the door handles, he breaks the rear left one as he wrenches the back seat door open. 
 
 
 
 I can see from where I am sitting he is having a hard time with it.. coughing and waving the dust away in a fruitless attempt to breath and clear the air inside the car. 
 
 
 
 Finally after what seems like hours of coughing and spitting, he takes out the Mexican horse blanket and throws it on the side of the dusty road. It lands with a resounding thump as a large dust cloud permeates through the night air all around it. 
 
 
 
 `` What the hell is this?'' The policeman, who I now recognize as a State Trooper begins to wave the remnants of the dust away from out of the back of the car. 
 
 
 
 `` Bones, they, is what- did you- You a grave robber, boy? This your dead grandma back here? What the hell? You sick mother-'' 
 
 
 
 As soon as he threw the dusty blanket out of the backseat I knew I did n't need to sit still any longer. Looking down at my hands I realized that there really was n't ever any handcuffs on them at all, or was there? I did n't know, all I knew was how compelled I felt to get back out on that dusty highway. So I was n't surprised when I found myself back behind the wheel of my Old Savoy. 
 
 
 
 I went to go turn the key in the ignition but was stopped briefly, and only for a moment, the key was no longer there, and the ignition seemed rusted away, in fact the whole steering column was loose and broken, just then I heard the State Trooper yell out loud as he climbed out of the backseat. 
 
 
 
 `` Hey!! Kid!! Where the hell did you go? We ai n't playin no games!'' 
 
 
 
 He picked up my hand cuffs staring at them incredulously and running his hand over the hood of his squad car where I had been sitting when out of nowhere a large dust cloud came in through the drivers side window and passed out through the passengers side. 
 
 
 
 When it had cleared, the ignition and steering column were all back in place, the keys were once again back in my hand and I felt the rusty small Colt back in my leather jacket again... Glancing back I saw the Mexican blanket was draped right back over the body of that girl. That girl, that girl she- Ah, I could n't remember right now, it might have been important but I could never seem to think straight unless I was night drivin' down the dusty road through route 66. 
 
 
 
 So without another thought I shut my rusty door, its handle no longer broken and turned the key and the old engine roared to life again. Smoke and dust began swirling up all around the Plymouth like being caught up in a dirt devil whirlwind. 
 
 
 
 As I slowly began to pull away I glanced back through the mirror at the Trooper who had pulled us over, he was still standing there holding the handcuffs in one hand and his walkie in the other. A look of dumbfounded disbelief on his face as I drove back onto the highway and off towards the sunrise outpacing the dust behind us leaving it and the squad car in the night as the red glow from my tail lights faded away. 

