Drive through Texas in the middle of the night. Make sure you've been driving for ten hours so far, make sure your resolve is set so you don't stop until you hit Austin. Listen to naught but spooky music, drink naught but Mountain Dew, smoke naught but honey roasted cigarettes. Then gape in awe when you see, out of nowhere, a sign approach your vehicle at sixty-five miles an hour. Let that sign read:


Then spend the next four hours convincing yourself that that sign didn't exist.

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