You drive recklessly throughout the day and night hoping against all hope to get away from your Raptor overlords. Your Check Engine light has been defiently starying you down for most of the trip. As you approach the Canadian border, you start getting a glimmer of hope that your plan might actually succeed. As you round a corner in your sleep-deprived, crazed flight, you car slides to a stop near the top of a hill for your engine finally burst into flames. You immediatly realize you must ditch the car lest you go up in flames with it, but you panic and commence running around it in circles. The car starts slowly slipping back down the hill, and the next thing you know is you are racing towards a firey death with a 2 ton metal fireball hot on your heels. You want to dash to the side, but the one-lone road you were driving on is surrounded by cliffs on both sides. As you start running more and more out of breath, your pulse skyrockets to 240bpm out of both fear and exertion. As a final, defiant act you decide you would rather throw yourself into the flames than give the Raptors the satisfaction of capturing you alive. Just as you scream your last agonizing scream, your fiery deathbed delivers you to the bottom of the hill where a small pack of Raptors eagerly await their tasty barbeque.
I bore the raptors to death with my terrible stories.