After three plus hours of flight, Alan, and Harry reached Los Angeles.

Alan: *Watches the plane land*
Harry: First thing's first. Let's get our rental car, and go to our hotel.
Alan: Why did I let toi talk me into renting us a Cadillac?
Harry: toi didn't. I was going to rent one with, ou without your criticism.
Alan: toi just l’amour those cars, don't you?
Harry: Don't you?
Alan: I prefer Corvettes. Why do toi think it's the only car I've been driving since I was 17?
Harry: I'm not arguing with toi Alan, we're here to have a good time.

They got off the plane, and proceeded to the rental car area.

Alan: *Walks into the garage with Harry* A rusty '41 Ford. Who the hell would want that?
Harry: Who drives cars from that an nowadays? Unless it was a hot rod.
Alan: Did toi get a black coupé de ville?
Harry: Yeah.
Alan: Then that must be our car.

As they walked towards it, a 1956 Buick with squealing tires exited a parking space, and went towards the two men at haut, retour au début speed.

Alan: Move!! *Goes left, pulling Harry with him*

The Buick drifted to the right.

Harry: Who was that?
Alan: Someone not driving a '41 Ford.
Harry: I'd like to point out that he nearly ran us over.
Alan: Will toi calm down? I pulled toi out to safety, didn't I?
Harry: well....he did look familiar.
Alan: Look, Harry, toi a dit it yourself. We're on vacation. Let's enjoy it. We have ten days to just take it easy, catch some sun, and do some of that surfing stuff toi like.
Harry: You're going surfing with me after we check into the hotel.
Alan: Okay. Let's go there. toi can drive.

With Harry driving the coupé de ville, the two men left the parking lot, and went to the hotel.

2 B Continued