That motor roared from a heavy-soled boot weighing on its accelerator, the driver’s anger obvious in all eight cylinders. Leaving the office on December 24 with the script in hand had been no easy task. To top off the day, he’d had to pay off the little fart of a doctor for his card. Intimidation had also helped.
Buying over-sized tires for his big Jeep Rubicon didn’t come cheap, especially when there were other gifts to get. He’d do that later.
A billboard turned him into a happier elf. Medical marijuana sold ahead. He sighed, “Finally! There’s my exit.”
100-word challenge: ANGER