After three più 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 te talk me into renting us a Cadillac?
Harry: te didn't. I was going to rent one with, o without your criticism.
Alan: te just Amore those cars, don't you?
Harry: Don't you?
Alan: I prefer Corvettes. Why do te think it's the only car I've been driving since I was 17?
Harry: I'm not arguing with te 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 box auto, garage with Harry* A rusty '41 Ford. Who the hell would want that?
Harry: Who drives cars from that anno nowadays? Unless it was a hot rod.
Alan: Did te get a black coupé, coupe 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 superiore, in alto 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 te calm down? I pulled te out to safety, didn't I?
Harry: well....he did look familiar.
Alan: Look, Harry, te detto 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 te like.
Harry: You're going surfing with me after we check into the hotel.
Alan: Okay. Let's go there. te can drive.

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

2 B Continued