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Summary
He didn't really know where he was--some Super 8 between Fresno and Bakersfield, probably--and he was tired as shit. He didn't even notice the sleek black Camaro pulling into the driveway until it was barreling towards him at a good 40 mph. Any other car and he would've jumped out of the way, but, really, he was just begging for the driver to hit him.
