And now to check in on Deuce Maverick and Liddy Horne once again...

Sweet Jesus my shoulder hurts. And my back. And my head. And my arms and butt and...you get the picture. Everything hurts. But that's ok. It beats being dead. By a slim margin but it does.

I decide to get out. Now getting out of an upside down car that you are strapped into is no easy task. In the movies, they make it look easy. One second, you're hanging there like a trussed up turkey and the next you roll out of the window and hit the ground running. It ain't like that. Let me tell you why.

You see, you are hanging...from the seatbelt. The seatbelt is the only thing keeping you from falling on your head. So if you release the seatbelt, you fall on your head. Got the picture? Now add the fact that you only have one arm to support yourself since you need one arm to release the belt and you've got quite a hard thing to do. Add to that the fact that severe disorientation sets in whenever you are involved in a flipping, rolling kind of accident and things get really difficult. Throw in Waffle House grease in your eyes and you have right near impossible.

Somehow, I get out. I pull myself to my feet and look around. I see the Escalade, front end smoking like Cruella Deville but otherwise unharmed. The driver is large, African American lady with pink fingernails. It looks like our accident didn't affect her cell phone call at all. I can hear it now...

"And honey, you won't believe what that fool of a man said then (BAM!!!! 2 second pause). Oh, girl I think I just hit a dog. Hang on and let me see..."

I shake my head and see the other cars slowing to gape at me. It's about this time that I realize I am bleeding. In fact, I am bleeding hard from a huge gash in my head. A trickle runs down my forehead and into my eye. I didn't notice it in the car because I was upside down but now it flow freely down my face. I must look like a walking gun shot victim or something. I see a kid in the back seat of a Volvo pass by and she screams. The Vovlo speeds away.

I pick just this moment to throw up. Now you might be thinking I am weak or something. But I'm not. Let me tell you why I hate the sight of blood. But before I do that, I decide to get Liddy out of the car. In my disoriented state I fear that the car will explode and splatter poor Liddy all over this side of town. Of course the truth is that cars rarely explode when involved in high speed crashes. The stats say that only about 3 out of 1000 cars explode this way. In my mind, 3 is a pretty big number right now and I would like to get myself far, far away from this Euro Sedan. It's about that time that I finally hear sirens...