A few details missed...

So in my effort to get Mike blogging the other day, I left out a few details in our story so let me back up. Mike and I had been working on his RX7 for a while and we couldn't get it exactly right. It seemed like we had a manifold leak of some sort because it wasn't running as well as we'd hoped. Finally we'd given up and were driving to Cookeville because there was supposedly an expert up there. He showed us the problem but we couldn't leave the car so we went home to fix it...very fast. Well, I think he has the cruise set on 80 or 90 and the speed limit was 65. Then we see blue lights. The guy as I mentioned earlier came to my door because he was too fat to stand on Mikes side of the car. He asked Mike to step to the rear and question him because we're obviously drug dealers...so he calls for backup. His backup is an equally fat waste of air. Now they question Mike about me because I look suspicious. I was actually trying to take a nap while they had him out of the car. Now I'm invited to the rear to get frisked. The first moron starts to frisk me while the other has his hand on his gun ready to unholster at any given moment. Fat guy one finds my keys and says "Is that crack? That's crack. He's got crack on him!" So I said "that's a car key moron." He backs up and puts his hand on his gun and like every cheesey cop you've ever seen in a movie says "pull that out nice and slow like..." So I hand him my car keys. At the time I was carrying a key chain someone gave me for graduation. It read "I bet you can't wait until National Asshole day." These two reading it like second graders was priceless. They decided it was not crack, but we had drugs in the car so they HAD to search it. At this point Mike and I know we can take them, and that we can outrun them. However, they have guns and seem like they haven't shot anything in a while and they really want to shoot us. Fat guy one searches the car and fat guy two makes sure we stand against the car with our hands "where he can see them." Yeah...it's really that bad. To everyones suprise they found no crack and start lecturing Mike on how he's abusing his car and he's going to throw a rod driving like that. Mike pipes up with "The car doesn't have rods." The cop, now being an expert mechanic, says "What in the hell do you think it has if it doesn't have rods boy?!?" So fat guy two says "It's one uh them rotax engines...it ain't got rods or pistons." So I correct them "It's a rotary engine...invented by Wankel...look it up if you want." So he turns back to Mike "I was turning this shivolay (read that as the moron pronunciation of Chevrolet) 130mph to catch you boys. It was so hard on this car to catch you I can't even believe it." Mike's response was priceless. "That certainly says something about your Chevrolet then doesn't it?" An hour later, with Mike and I still standing there having to listen to these idiots joke about taking us to jail they run my license because while we don't have drugs, we're obviously going to get them. They decide my license is fake and that Mike's license is just a permit. Now they're holding my license next to my face to see if it's really me and they've determined I've taken some kids license because this one is clearly not me. That was when I said "If I'm going to carry a fake, wouldn't it be one I could buy beer with?" This sounded like a good idea to them so they let me have my license back. We were then instructed to mosey on home and to maintain the speed limit because they'd be watching. When we got home, we realized they'd written Mike up for 85 in a 55. We were in a 65 so Mike was going back to Hee Haw Hell to go to court. They rescheduled on him a few times so he never got to go. They jerked him around until he paid the fine. I think that's all the details. The good news is Mike is starting a blog. It will be good.