There’s this movie called I Get Off. It stars a white 1974 Pontiac Trans AM driven by Sheila, played by an otherwise unknown actress who now makes her meager living charging people $20 a pop to have their picture taken with her and a replica of said car at comic conventions. In this cinematic masterpiece there are bar fights, mustaches, a Columbo knock-off police detective, bricks and bricks of an unspecified narcotic and a guy in a banana suit.
In the climactic scene, the Trans Am races head-on toward a tanker truck in the desert. The windows are down. Sheila’s hair is blowing in the wind. She lifts her sunglasses. Her eyes are focused. There’s a shotgun on the passenger seat. Her hand reaches down to turn up the radio.
Mellow Bravo blares from the speakers as a sly smile comes across Sheila’s face.
Then it gets messy.
