4:09

Eleven minutes to reach Mad Hatters. 

‘YOU BOYS READY?’ I shouted over my shoulder.

Masters of paraphernalia, Marty and Monty had everything under control.

‘WE’RE RUNNING SHORT ON PAPERS.’ Monty announced.  Tito the Mannequin looked on, dressed in a Golden State Warrior jumpsuit.  He had seen all this before.

‘IMPROVISE,’ I said.

‘WITH WHAT?’

‘I DON’T KNOW.  USE YOUR IMAGINATION.’

 ‘I BET WE COULD USE TITO’S ARM AS A BONG,’ Marty said. 

I eyed the rearview mirror.  No sign of the patroller.  Straining against the sun I peered at the clouds above.  The CHP spy plane had to be around somewhere.  I goosed the throttle.  The engine opened with a banshee scream as we tore by the sign.

National Historic Landmark. Mad Hatters.  22 miles.’  

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