Garrett Duke

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Garrett looks up from what he was doing after Ernie called his attention to Rosco. "What in the world is he doing now?" he questions as he glares at the sheriff who is standing half way behind a large old tree. "Looks like he's trying to spy on us," Bill comments as he motions to the sheriff's binoculars. "Looks like it," Garrett nods, "wouldn't be the first time he's done something like that. That fat commissioner probably put him up to it to get to us. Probably going to try to sabotage our cars so we can't race against him." He gives a sarcastic laugh, "He knows that's the only way he can win." Bill quietly shakes his head. "You really got a messed up law around here," Ernie states as he readjusts his hat, "You know what we should do?" Bill and Garrett look at each other before glancing at Ernie and shake their heads at him. Ernie motions them closer and they slowly take a step closer to him. "C'mon Ernie," Bill states impatiently, "what is it?" "We should go," Ernie states, "we came to Hazzard to support our sponsors as well as spread some light on some small town racing. But no sponsor is worth this hassle of being stalked by the sheriff and the crooked law. Garrett," he pauses to look at Garrett, "I don't know where that will put you, but it's been fun running into you." "Rather literally," Bill comments sarcastically. "I should have known how this would turn out just by that hidden stop sign," Ernie cusses under his breath. Bill shakes his head to draw more silence as Garrett lights a cigarette. "We can't just leave our new friend to deal with that loser," Bill firmly states. "We should leave this area and find a more secure place that will be safe from him. Then come race time, show him who's boss." Ernie slowly nods. "But where would that more secure place be?" he asks and they both look at Garrett. "Uh. Um," Garrett stutters as he glances around, "I really hate to say this," he pauses to blow out smoke, "but the only place I can think of that would be safe from them would be at my uncle's farm. My cousins and brother have a beef with them over a mile wide and they'd do anything to protect anyone from them." "Why you hate to say it?" Ernie raises a bushy eye brow at him. "It's a long story. To make it short, we don't always get along," Garrett sighs heavily, "I wish I could say my place, but my apartment wouldn't hold all of us not alone these cars. They have a big barn to store them in and they'd make sure Rosco wouldn't get to it." Garrett goes quiet as he tosses the butt of the cigarette onto the ground and smashes it up with his heavy leather work boots. Looking at Ernie and Bill, he reluctantly says, "They're all honest to a fault. You can trust them with your cars...and your life if you want to take it that far." "Sweet," Ernie quickly replies, "What are we waiting for? How about you lead the way." "Now hold on, Ern," Bill calmly states, "Just because Garrett says we can trust them, doesn't mean we should go. How would you like it if some random people just randomly show up at your door, because someone said you'd be trusted." Ernie laughs hysterically. "Who would that be?" Ernie finally asks, "Someone not very smart," Bill quickly responds, "But that's besides the point. How'd you feel?" Ernie shrugs thoughtfully for a moment. "Don't worry about it," Garrett says impatiently, "they will be excited to have a local NASCAR hero showing up at their door unannounced. They'll be even more excited to help keep Boss and Rosco away from your cars. That's just how they are." Bill reluctantly nods. "What about your's?" he questions. Garrett shrugs it off. "There's no time to worry about that right now. We just got to go," he takes a step to his car, "I'll lead you to the Duke farm and I'll introduce you to them. You'll love them and I'm sure they'll love you. I'm sure they are preparing their own car for the race." "Heck ya!" Ernie shouts as they all go to their cars and quickly speed away from the sheriff who angrily goes to his car only to trip on a stick and land in a pile of mud. CUE ROGER OR SKIPPER

Silence fills the air as the spotless white Cadillac comes to a halt and the driver promptly hops out of the driver's seat to hold open the door as a short round man dressed in a white three piece suit slowly steps out with his signature cigar wrapped tightly with his thick finger. Taking a few steps towards the men working on cars before coming to a halt as the sound of a loud car coming towards them clouds the silent farm land only for his sheriff's car to quickly pull in behind the Cadillac, barely missing it. "Numbskull," he mutters before turning to face the men with the cars and begins to walk towards them once more. "Nice afternoon, fellas," he states to break the silence as the sheriff's car door slams shut behind him, "I'm Commissioner J.D. Hogg. I run this nice town of Hazzard." "Well Boss," Garrett is the first to speak up with an ornery look on his face, "that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." "Garrett!" Boss yells angrily, "I was talking to them," he points to Bill and Ernie with his cigar, "not you!" "You hush, Garrett," Sheriff Coltrane says from behind Boss, "he wasn't talking to you!" Boss stares at his sheriff momentarily. "Nice of you to finally join me," he states to him before turning to Bill and Ernie, "Now boys," he pauses dramatically, "rumor has it, y'all are a big name in that big racing community." "You mean, in NASCAR?" Garrett says with a sly smile. "Will you stay out of this, Duke?!" Boss scolds him, "What are you doing here with the likes of them anyway?" Garrett looks at them coldly for a long moment. "I don't know how to respond that. You tell me to stay out of this," Garrett motions around at Bill and Ernie before turning around to face Boss and Rosco, " and then ask me a question?" "Oh never mind you. You wouldn't understand if I were to ask what you're dumb name is," Hogg angrily responds to Garrett, "anyway. Let's forget about him." "Nah, I don't want to forget him," Ernie interrupts Hogg to earn an angry dark look from the man in white, "I like him. He's nice. You don't seem so nice with your attitude and name calling." Rosco begins to laugh before Hogg turns his angry glare upon him. "OK you hush you big city man," Rosco snaps after seeing Hogg's look, "Boss Hogg is the commissioner of this nice town and he is to be respected and liked." "This nice town?" Ernie questions, "If it was a nice town, y'all would have your trees trimmed so we could see the stop signs and we'd be receiving a warm welcoming. Instead of whatever you call this..." "What stop signs covered in trees?" Rosco asks, pretending to care. "You numbskull. This is getting us nowhere!" Hogg snaps at his sheriff before turning back to Bill and Ernie, "As I was saying," he pauses to suck on the butt of his cigar and lets out of a cloud of smoke before continuing, "Rumor has it, y'all got a big name. And I like big names. They attract people. And people attract money. And I like money." Garrett laughs. "Do you even know what they're names are, Boss?" he questions and Hogg glares angrily at him, "I'm just asking, because it seems like you are clueless." "I've been told it's Elliott Bill," Hogg slowly and unsurely responds to receive a laugh from Bill and Ernie before Rosco whispers something in his ear and Hogg forces a smile. "I was wanting to see if y'all were awake or not. Of course I know who he is. It's Bill Elliott, he races cars." "What ya know," Garrett is the first to speak up, "the ol' sheriff does know something. Did Flash tell you?" "You hush, Duke!" Rosco yells at Garrett. "Who is Flash?" Ernie questions, "Sounds like a race car's name!" Rosco laughs. "He's even better than a race car!" he states proudly, "He's my police dog!" Boss rolls his dark eyes. "Gentlemen!" he yells, "I'm here to talk about my race tomorrow, not some dumb dog!" "I beg your pardon. Flash is not dumb. He must be smarter than you to know who Bill Elliott is," Rosco snaps back, "I think you owe him a num-num when we get back to the station." "A num-num?! I'll give you a num-num!" Hogg yells lift up his fat fist before Garrett lighting up a cigarette brings his attention back to Bill and Ernie and he forces a smile. "I'm sorry gentleman. My sheriff doesn't have much of a brain and gets to me sometimes. I'll deal with him later." "Brain or no brain," Ernie grins, "he's still nicer than you have been." "If you don't hush, I'll have my brainless sheriff lock you behind bars!" Boss yells at him and Rosco yanks out his handcuffs with a smile on his face before Boss blocks him, "As I was saying, I'm here to talk about tomorrow's race. I have a big time driver to drive for me -" "You have a big time driver to drive for you?" Garrett is quick to interrupt him, "Now who is that, Boss? Ol' Rosco here?" Boss stares coldly at Garrett. "I told you to stay out of this! I'm not here for the lousy likes of you!" Boss yells, "Never mind. It don't matter, because Rosco here is going to arrest you." "For what?" Garrett asks, eyeing Boss coldly and Boss steps back into Rosco, "For asking who your driver is?" "For being obstinate and getting in the way of justice," Boss spits back at him. "Rosco. Do your job!" "Hold on a minute!" Bill breaks his silence, "Garrett hasn't done anything wrong other than to question you and your foolishness! You lie hands on him, I'll have my lawyer down here so fast you won't know what hits you! By the time he gets down here, he'll have the sheriff's badge and your job!" Boss eyes him. "You wouldn't!" he yells. "I would," Bill confidently states, "what you are doing is wrong and you know it. Even your sheriff knows it. Now step back and put the cuffs away!" Boss slowly nods and motions Rosco to step back and put his cuffs away. "Fine. But our eyes are on you boy. One step out of the line and we'll have you in jail before you can light your filthy cigarette," Hogg threatens Garrett, "in the meantime, you get. I got business to do with Bill here." "I am not here to do business with you or anyone," Bill cuts in, "Garrett was here before you. So if anyone is to leave, it's you and your sorry law." "Well then. I guess I'll tell my driver he still has the job and the paycheck," Boss states smugly. "Oooh, I get a paycheck now too!" Rosco giggles. "Shut up!" Boss yells at him, blowing smoke in his face. "If I was your driver," Bill draws, "I would quit and come race for me tomorrow. No one deserves the lack of respect you show everyone. They are undeserving of your paycheck. I wouldn't want to even touch your paycheck. It's probably as filthy as you are!" Hogg angrily looks around at everyone. "I should have all of you arrested!" he yells before turning and walking back to his car where his driver closes the door behind him. "Come on Rosco. We got practice to do to win that race tomorrow!" Bill, Ernie, and Garrett all watch the two vehicles quickly drive away, throwing dirt from the road behind them. As silence starts to build, they turn back to face each other and their vehicles. "Wow," Ernie breaks the silence, "they're a piece of work." CUE ROGER OR SKIPPER

OK

I love ol' Waylon. My older cat is named Waylon after him. He is the absolute best in that era or generation. I can't remember if I knew before this thread that he had son named Whey or not. Though I know I haven't heard him sing. I have heard Shooter sing and even saw him in person when he was at one of the Duke Fests. His music was a lot more rock and hard than Waylon, but it was still cool seeing him!

Hearing Ernie's and Bill's compliment to Garrett, brings a rare smile to his face. "Well thank you," he responds, "nothing compared to you all, I'm sure. Thanks for the part and your help." Bill and Ernie nod. "Well, we kinda owed it to you due to my brother's lousy driving ability," Bill jokingly elbows Ernie in the stomach, "That's why I'm the one behind the wheel and he's the one on top of the tool box." "Hey now," Ernie responds jokingly, "to my defense, the stop sign was completely covered!" "Regardless of your sorry excuses, you generally stop before crossing the road," Bill rolls his eyes at his brother, "and you failed to do that. But thanks to your failure we met Garrett here who gave us the tour and information about this here town you somehow found. At least we will be prepared to compete against the locals." "I'm sure you'd be able to compete against us locals with your eyes closed and stepping foot here," Garrett states as the notorious white Cadillac slowly pulls into the drive way of the old barn. Garrett rolls his eyes and points to it, "Speak of the devil himself. Here comes Commissioner J.D. Hogg. Better known as Boss. Y'all better hold onto your money."

Garrett Duke shakes his head in disgust as he abruptly turns onto a dusty dirt road as his thoughts return to his argument with Cooter, of the orange car, and of his supposed family. Only to enforce more anger to run deeply within him and to build his yearning to return back to his gang in Atlanta. His true family. The only people that truly understood him. Appreciated him for who he is. Yet thanks to his dad, he's stuck in this little hick town where everyone glares judgmentally at him and where he stands out from everyone else. Where he clearly doesn't belong or fit in. Yet here he is stuck. Sucking on the last draw of his cigarette, he allows his anger to swell deeply within him before blowing out the smoke and smashing the cigarette butt into the ashtray. "I'll show them and that ugly orange car who's the better mechanic and the better driver...and who has the best car!" he yells out at no one as an old truck runs past the stop sign on the adjoining road. Garrett slams on his breaks while cussing out loud and his heart sinks deeply within him as he hears the screech of metal, and he watches an old black truck run into the passenger door of his beloved car. Shoving his car into park, he angrily gets out and runs across the hood of his car and out of the side of his eyes, he sees two guys climb out of the truck. Ignoring the people in the truck, he runs over to the passenger door to eye the damage and is slightly relieved at seeing the damage is only to the paint the and the door. "Damn it," he cusses, his anger boils deeply within him despite the minimal damage. This was his car. His baby. And it was supposed to prove Cooter and his friends who the real driver was. "Hey sir," a thick southern drawl voice interrupts his angered thoughts, "we are deeply sorry. I. . .I didn't see the stop sign back there and -" "You didn't see the stop sign?!" Garrett yells turning to finally face the men in the truck, "What are you, blind?!" He goes silent as he looks at the two newcomer who hit his car and he is struck with excitement and anger all at once as he sees Bill Elliott standing near the passenger door of the truck before he looks at his car to reinforce his anger. Sighing deeply, he takes out a cigarette and lights it. "You're Bill Elliott," he states matter of fact, hiding his excitement, and then pointing to the driver, "And you're his brother. His car chief. What in the world would bring you two to this little hick town?" Bill laughs to break the tension. "Ask my idiot brother who ran into you. I've been asking him the same dang thing." Ernie rolls his eyes. "Look sir. I'm sorry about your car. I have insurance and papers that we can show you. We will make this right to you," he drawls pointing to the damage he created before pointing back to the stop sign that is covered in thick green leaves from the large tree that hangs above it, "through the tree branches, I didn't see the stop sign, at all. And being new to town and all, I drove through it." Garrett eyes the hidden stop sign and nods. "Well. I'll give you credit that it is hidden," he pauses to blow out smoke away from the two men, "but all the same, y'all hit my car. But at least, the damage seems to be minimal." He laughs sarcastically. "That there covered stop sign...pretty much represents this hick town and the law they have around here. But," he pauses to drop the cigarette butt onto the dirt road and steps on it with this black boot, "that doesn't answer my question. What brings a well known NASCAR driver and his crew chief, here?" "Yeah Ernie..." Bill echoes him. "Well y'all have this race coming up," Ernie finally comes to the answer that they were waiting for, "with the break in our schedule, it is a great opportunity to enter the race to put in some none meaningful practice laps, support our sponsors, and to hang out with the good people that may not have the opportunity to meet my brother here." "Your brother don't look too happy," Garrett dryly points out. "Well truth be known," Ernie grins mischievously, "my brother's just an old grump who doesn't like change or to do anything unless it's his way. I'm here to steer him in the right direction whether he appreciates it or not." Garrett eyes him momentarily as his answer sends him back a couple of years of his dad kicking him out of the house and sending him to Hazzard to supposedly send his life in the right direction despite his anger and hatred towards it. "I'm ever so thankful," Bill breaks the silence, "I am sure your town and your race will be great. I just have a family I'd like to spend the break with." Garrett silently nods. "I'm sure people around here will be excited to see you all and to race against you. They don't get this opportunity very often," Garrett answers to break his silence. Ernie nods in agreement. "We all come from a small town. We know and understand how it is like. We want y'all know we support you and all that you do," he finally responds as he wipes the sweat from his hair before motioning towards Garrett's car behind him, "you race? You enter this race?" Garrett glances back at Spittin' Cobra. "Yep. That's Spittin' Cobra y'all just ran into," he smiles proudly, "I am entered to race with him, but I am on my way to Atlanta for a part, because the hick mechanic wouldn't order it for me. He think's he's too good for me and wants to support his friend's and their clunker oranger car. So, I'm off to pick it up myself and show him how's it done." "I love your enthusiasm," Ernie grins at him and takes in Garrett's car. "Forget Atlanta," Bill pipes in, "we got some boys bringing parts with our car in our trailer. If we got your part, it's your's. Our boys will even fix the damage ol' Ernie did to Spittin' Cobra." "For real?" Garrett asks with an hint of excitement "For real," Ernie responds, "our boys scouted out an old abandoned barn up a couple of miles that isn't in use last week. They were able to convince Commissioner J. D. Hogg to let us use it until after the race. So if you meet us there we can get you set up. Our boys should be in town in another hour or so." Bill glances at Ernie. "What we do until then?" he questions. "Well Garrett's gonna take us a ride in his car and show us around town and give us all the information we need about this place, the race, and the people we are up against," Ernie grins and wraps a grease stained arm around Garrett's tense shoulders, "Aren't you?" "Heck yeah!" Garrett yells, his anger subsiding into excitement that he has gained the trust and friendship of Bill Elliott, even more so knowing how jealous Cooter, Bo, and Luke will be once they find out. "How about I follow you to the barn to drop off your truck, and y'all can climb on in?" "That's a ten four," Ernie drawls as he opens his drivers door and him and Bill get in. *************************************************************************** "So Garrett," Ernie breaks the silence as he climbs into back seat of Spitting Cobra as Bill climbs into the passenger door, they both close their doors and the sound thunders against the old wood of the abandoned barn, "what brings you to Hazzard?" Garrett eyes him momentarily before backing back out onto the dirt road and pulling forward, heading towards the small town. "What makes you so sure, I'm not from here?" "Well," Bill drawls as he eyes the farm scenery around them, "you have more of a city boy vibe than a country boy attitude to you." Garrett nods and gives a brief smile as he drives a moment in silence before he slowly and cautiously explains some of his past and what all brought him to Hazzard as well as some of what he feels about Hazzard, his supposed family, and the people in Hazzard. Cue Roger or Skipper

Wile E. Coyote

Sending hugs and prayers your way, Roger. That would be so difficult and I am sorry you are going through all this. *HUGS*

Sirens

In memory of Jimmy Buffett and the NFL season (JJ Watt) here is Margaritaville

Same here. I miss them all.

Wow...seeing those names are a blast from the past!

Paper

Of course you had to go and beat me. LOL. Hope he has an amazing birthday.

Happy belated birthday Cooter!

Bill Elliott sits grudgingly in the passenger seat of the old truck, staring in disbelief at the large white billboard sign that shows a fat man in a three piece white suit and a cigar with big letters reading: WELCOME TO HAZZARD! ENJOY YOUR STAY! "I will not enjoy my stay," he says aloud, breaking the silence before glancing over at the driver seat where his brother and also his crew chief sits with a greasy ball cap upon his head, "Ernie," he hisses, "This has got to be the dumbest idea you have ever had in your entire life." Ernie laughs hysterically for a moment. "Oh come on Bill," he shakes his head, "lighten up and live a little. Not everything is about super speedways and huge grandstands. We all started out like these hicks back in Dawsonville. You remember those days?" "Of course I do," Bill throws back, "I cherish those days. But that's not where I am anymore. Where we are any more. We have so much to get ready for Daytona and yet here we are wasting valuable time on at a dirt racetrack we never seen and in a place we never heard of before. Dale Earnhardt is going to win the big race because he's got more practice and time at Daytona than we do because you decided on a road trip." "C'mon bro," Ernie slaps Bill on his tense shoulders, "this will be fun! These good ol' boys work hard day in and day out. They deserve to have a little fun with a big legend like you." Ernie allows a long dramatic pause, "Plus," another long pause as he takes in the scenery out of the window, "you promised your big sponsor, McDonalds, to bring it to Hazzard, Georgia in attempt to buy a location." "I didn't promise nothing!" Bill snaps at him, "You are the one who did the talking. The promising. The lying. Look at this place!" he points out his window, "Why in the world would McDonalds want to build a restaurant here? They won't make a dime compared to Atlanta or some main stay. Who will want to travel to some itty bitty town that no one has ever heard of or cared to go to, to just go to McDonalds? No one...that's who!" "Wrong brother," Ernie chimes in as he points to the billboard sign of the big round man in a three piece suit, "that man right there would want a McDonalds in his town to draw attention to his town with the lighted arches in an attempt to move forward and away from it's traditional old farm town reputation." "Do you even know what you are talking about anymore?" Bill shakes his head in disgust, "I'm sure this is a nice town that is full of well deserving and hard working people. I'd glad to join your charity spirit. In the off season. When we don't have a big race in a couple of weeks to get ready for. Richard Petty will be driving circles around us come race day!" Bill allows silence to enter the cab of the truck, "All because you agreed to do some farm town race with some good ol' boys who think they know a thing or two about racing." "Whether you like it or not, Bill. We are here and we have signed a deal to enter this race with your McDonald's car," Ernie states as he turns on the ignition and gets back on the dusty dirt road to officially enter Hazzard County, "we told the boys we would scout the area out a bit before they join us with the car. Let's go see what the great town of Hazzard is all about. You may love it so much you will want to move and stay here." "Don't hold your breath," Bill states before silently watching the trees outside of his open window. Cue Roger

Thank you Skipper.

And if that wasn't bad enough...this race pushed me out of first in my NASCAR fantasy league and now sitting second. I just earned my way into first place a few weeks ago.

Thank you Roger. If truth be told, on how bad he's been this year, he probably doesn't deserve to be in it. But it is still disappointing. And sad. I still hope he will at least pull off one win this season...

Well I missed the race last night...Chris Buesher won. Bubba Wallace got into the Chase in points. Chase Elliott is out. Hopefully he will get a win or two at least and work on next year. 2023 NASCAR Cup Series Playoffs field set | Official Site Of NASCAR

Turtle

Speeding

Concert

Garrett watches the local mechanic from afar in the old hot garage. Standing in the shadows with this his arms folded across his chest, agitated that he was forced to take his beloved car to his brother's and cousin's best friend. It felt like he was taking his baby to the enemy. The mechanic slowly stands up from looking under the hood. "Well," he drawls as he wipes his greasy hands onto a greasy rag as he turns around to face Garrett, "looks like I'll have to order a part for him." Garrett rolls his hardened eyes at the mechanic and forcefully inhales. "Tell me something I already don't know," he angrily states, "I told you that when I called you and you said that you didn't have the part I asked you for." Cooter shakes his head in frustration. "And I told you," he forcefully says, "that I wanted to check to see it's the correct part that is needed so I don't order and pay for the wrong part only to have to order and pay for another one." Garrett stares at him for a long moment until Cooter steps back and looks away with unease. "As if I don't know what's wrong with my OWN car. Or anything about working on cars," Garrett snaps at Cooter, "I may not be one of your friends at the farm with an ugly orange car, but I do know a thing about cars. Probably more than them!" "I. . .I'm not saying you don't," Cooter stammers, "I just thought it wouldn't hurt to check." Garrett sarcastically laughs. "What you mean," he pauses dramatically, "is that you wanted to check what I got to tell your boys what they're up against. Well, you can tell them," Garrett takes an intimidating step towards Cooter who takes a step back and bumps into the tools hanging on the wall, "that my driving ability is just as perfect and powerful as Spitting Cobra here is." Garrett angrily spits on the floor. "We both know you wouldn't be second guessing their mechanical skills with that orange car. Don't be questioning mine!" Cooter shakes his head. "I don't know what you mean," he states before looking out the open garage door as if looking for help. Seeing none he looks back at Garrett who closes the hood of the car, "I'm a mechanic. That's all. I just wanted to get the right part for you." "Well good," Garrett gives Cooter an evil smile as he digs his keys out from his jean pocket, "get the damn part fast and let me know when it comes in. I'll come pay you for it and pick it up and put it in my car. Myself." Cooter silently nods as Garrett throws open the door and gets in behind the steering wheel before slamming the door shut, the loud noise echoing off the weak wooden walls of the garage. After a long moment, Cooter inhales deeply before stepping closer to the closed door and shakes his head at Garrett. "You know what," he boldly states with a smile, "I can't do that." His smile broadens as he sees anger rush deeply in Garrett's eyes. "You want to come in here all hot headed and yell at me, well you do you." He throws his hands up in defeat. "I hope you feel better getting all that out of your system. But." he goes quiet momentarily in disbelief of himself standing up to Garrett's well known anger. "I don't have to take it. I won't take it. Nor will Bo, Luke, Daisy, or Jesse. They don't deserve it. I don't deserve it. So," he pauses and points outside of his shadowy garage, "you can take your ugly and rude self and car out of my garage and find your part somewhere else. Because you won't find it or get it here." Garrett stares at him in disbelief as he takes a cigarette out and lights it before blowing smoke into Cooter's face. "You're pretty proud of yourself right now, aren't you?" Garrett gives Cooter a cold smile, "Well. Unlike Bo and Luke, I'm not on probation. I'm not limited to your trashy garage. I just thought I'd come to you to support local business. Ya know?" Garrett shrugs as he exhales more smoke into Cooter's face, "But I'll be glad to take my money elsewhere and support someone who gives a damn." "Get out. Now!" Cooter yells, "Or I'll get Sheriff Coltrane here to slap his cuffs on you and you'll be joining your BROTHER on probation for some real charges!" "It's funny," Garrett states starting his car, "how you and your boys dislike the sheriff when it's convenient, but the second things don't go your way, it's I'm going to the sheriff." Garrett sarcastically laughs as he backs out into the bright summer sun before pulling out into the road and driving back to his apartment. Cue Roger