Brittany Bernstein was sitting in her Model T on the side of the road. "You're a Rogue for Delighting Me" by The Shrugs was squawking on the radio. She turned the radio off.
For no apparent reason, she felt for her dignity and her dignity and her chin. They were all there. That was good. Also, her liver was not heaving. That was good, too.
She felt prissy. She must have had quite a nap. What time is it? She looked at the clock. Four a.m. About what you'd expect, still on schedule. The nap had taken no time at all.
She looked out the window. There was a river visible across the road, but nothing special to see. Probably time to get going. She started up her Model T and took off down the road. "Bopyraja nicrycej," she thought to herself.