Bonnie, Clyde and Bubba

So here's the story in a nutshell. Weasel loves giant, black trucks. I have no idea why, she just does and is determined to own one. Fair enough. I was telling a friend of mine, Annie, about The Weasel's odd obsession and she said she had a friend with the baddest of all big, black trucks. The license plates are even MANTRUK--enough said. Annie arranged for me to borrow the truck on a Saturday afternoon, but I needed it to be more dramatic. I had Annie park the truck at the mall and I took the Weasel inside to "check on a sale." When we came out, the truck was parked near our car so the Weasel and I went to check it out. While we were looking inside I "accidentally" opened the driver's side door. She was a bit startled and said, "dad, isn't the alarm going to go off? What if somebody comes outside and sees us? " I assured her that nobody would see and that if they did, they'd probably only yell. She hesitated briefly but was fine with it. While looking inside the truck, I "discovered" the keys on the mat. I told her that we should go for a ride. She kept telling me I was crazy and asking what I was doing. She told me we'd get in trouble, blah, blah, blah. Eventually she hopped in with me and we "stole" the truck. I stopped the truck and Annie and I had a good laugh and the Weasel slugged me. It was awesome. Annie showed us how to use the satellite TV which played on three screens, one in the dash and two behind the front seats. You can watch a different channel on each screen. She didn't care about the TV's as much as the mother of all stereos. I told her we could go anywhere she wanted. We drove through the Gateway Mall with the windows down and the radio at a volume that produced seismic activity in Toledo. It was awesome. We went to lunch and ended up driving that truck for 3 hours. Priceless. The only drawback was that I had to ground Weasel for stealing. I think she learned her lesson: stealing is awesome.