Let’s say you saved up all your paper route money and bought yourself a big, dumb American muscle car. And just after your first inflated insurance payment, someone smacks into the rear bumper and puts a ding in it when you’re not around.
At this point, what you DON’T need are the neighborhood hooligans writing graffiti on the damage.
That mutherfucking Jizzy. How many times do I have to tell him he’s too young to drive?
Or perhaps it WAS Grover! At least he apologized.