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So, picture this—me, obsessed with cars, seein’ this Escort XR3i, red as hell, zippin’ thru town. Heart’s racin’, I’m like, “Yes! That’s freedom, baby!” Unleash it, feel that power! But then—bam!—some dude’s drivin’ it like a snail, kills me every time. Wtf, man, why so slow? Pissed me off, legit wanted to yell, “Step on it, Zero!”—y’know, like M. Gustave screamin’ at his crew. Still, that car’s a beaut—sleek lines, turbo kick, pure joy.

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Finally, I get my coffee. It’s lukewarm. Ugh! I take a sip and nearly spit it out. Tastes like burnt rubber. I’m like, “Seriously? This is what I waited for?” But whatever, I chug it down. I need caffeine to deal with the madness.

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