Issue 3 TOC
 
Compound Fracture


LIEUTENANT T.T.:  Just sign the ticket, sir.

Stone-faced, Lieutenant T.T. shoves the ticket at Everyman Kyle.  Everyman Kyle quickly scribbles on it and hands it back.

EVERYMAN KYLE:  I’m really sorry--

LIEUTENANT T.T.:  Have a good night, sir.

Lieutenant T.T. abruptly turns and marches back to his chair.  The stagehands reappear and take officer and chair offstage left.  Everyman Kyle sits still in his car for a beat.  He takes a deep breath and then slowly starts his car again and puts it in gear and gingerly pulls out into traffic.  After a moment, he pantomimes engaging his turn signal and then cranks to the phantom steering wheel to the right, then back to the left, completing a right turn.  He glances up at his rearview mirror.

EVERYMAN KYLE: No!  No!  No!

Lieutenant T.T. and his stagehands burst onto the stage yet again.

LIEUTENANT T.T.:  Wee-ooo!  Wee-ooo!  Wee-ooo!

Everyman Kyle grips the steering wheel tight and gnashes his teeth, but ultimately pulls over.  Lieutenant T.T. approaches.  As he does, Everyman Kyle shakes his head over and over.

LIEUTENANT T.T.:  You didn’t signal that right turn.

EVERYMAN KYLE:  I have a shitty turn signal, okay?  It was on.  I hit it.  But as soon as I move my steering wheel at all, it knocks the turn signal off, okay?  Of course I signal my turns.  I mean, come on.  That’s basic.  It was my car.  My car doesn’t let me keep my signal going.  Did you see the signal going before I turned?  Once I’m in the turn, can’t the turn be assumed?



 
 
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