tomoatmeal:

The car came to a screeching halt, but it was too late.  The driver hopped out and ran around to the front to see if the dog was okay.  I darted over to the scene.  Eric, though unharmed, was lying on his side, panting.

“Oh no!  You smashed his face in!” I screamed at the driver.  “It’s flat now!  Like a pancake!”

“I’m so sorry,” said the driver.  “I didn’t see him, I…”

“That’s gonna cost forty dollars at least to unflatten his face!” I cried.

The driver got my hint and immediately opened his wallet.  “Okay, here,” he said, handing me two twenties.  “Are we cool now?”

“Yeah, we’re cool.”

In order to keep up the act, I carried Eric away from the scene in my arms even though he smelled like a sweltering trunk filled with dirty asses.