Lose the Tail

I work as a specialized instructor for defensive driving and evasion. My 2 PM student was talented but incredibly stiff—he sat on the edge of his seat, sweating, looking physically pained by the mere act of sitting. During the final pursuit simulation, a chase car locked onto our bumper. I barked the standard command: "We're being followed! Lose the tail!" I expected him to drift or accelerate. Instead, his face melted into an expression of pure, orgasmic relief. "Oh, thank God," he whispered. I heard a wet, sickening *rip*—like a leg of lamb being torn from the socket. He reached behind his back, pulled out a thrashing, three-foot-long scaled object dripping with green slime, and tossed it out the window. As he settled back comfortably into the seat for the first time, he smiled at me. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for permission to do that."