Beefy Don't Get Rattled

I introduced you to my old friend Beefy yesterday. He was a great guy, and in a quiet, unruffled way. While our old buddy Cloyce would indeed upset him (see here: Cloyce attracts deer), by and large Beef was happy watching the world go by.

Beefy liked his drink. He had purchased a bottle of vodka on his way home from work one day, and then stopped at a favored watering hole for a couple beers. By his own admission, he was feeling it a bit as he left the bar an hour or two later.

He was driving down the freeway when he noticed the smell of something burning. That's when he saw tiny flames licking up around the edges of the hood of his car. It turns out a pair of frayed wires had caused a fire. Beefy steered the car well onto a fortunately wide shoulder which happened to be at that spot of the highway. When he had stopped, he jumped out of the car, not forgetting his precious bottle of liquor. 

Beefy climbed up the berm at the roadside and sat far enough away from the car, by then engulfed in flames, to be safe, and began to ease his pain by uncorking the vodka and taking a nip. Soon enough he took another draw at the bottle and then a third, morosely watching his car incinerate itself.

Naturally enough, the fire drew the attention of a Michigan state trooper. The officer pulled up (well behind the flaming hulk of metal of course) and climbed up to where Beefy sat. "That your car?' the cop demanded.

"Yep," Beefy affirmed, with another shot of vodka.

"Well, would you like me to call the fire department?" the trooper asked, sarcastically.

After another drink Beefy simply answered, "If you want to."

That's it. That's the story. Beefy lost a car yet saved his vodka.