As this blonde New England princess prepared to T-bone me by running a stop sign with her shiny Volvo station wagon full of handsome family, I reflected in the moments left to me how handy it would be if I could burst into flames at will. I guess it's something like the fictional Ghost Rider, although I've never seen more than a movie promo for that.
She added extra bait for me by stopping at the sign and remaining stopped as I approached. Extra points for that.
She wasn't trying hard enough, because she failed to mow me down. She might have thought that shoving herself right up to me as I crossed the intersection -- with the right of way -- was simply an efficient use of space. Maybe in her mind, she never intended to run over me. Unfortunately, lady, I can't read your mind. What there is of it, anyway.
I've previously wished for the ability to throw showy but basically harmless lightning bolts. I still want that. But nothing expresses disdain like bursting into flames in front of someone who has just done something idiotic that put you at risk. Do ya see me NOW?!
It would be great.