whence, dear reader, the hero will shortly enter the scene with flourish, very possibly from a conveniently placed rope.
or something like that. in our case, the real version would now include a very polite state trooper. although we are still on track to wow the passersby at WPTS Day, the speed of our progress and the height of our spirits are both somewhat reduced. this has now become quite an expensive trip.
ah, troopers. how faithfully you discharge a duty of such immorality. if only you could be persuaded of that which we, the frequent travellers of pennsylvania interstates, know in our deepest parts: your law is no law at all. it is bare graft, collected with undisguised coercion, only designated a “tax” by the ultimate destination of the lucre squeezed from the common man.
if only i wrote protest songs.