"License and registration please. Do you know why I pulled you over?"
"You lost a bet? The internet is down? You want me to read your screenplay?"
"You watch your mouth, funny boy."
"Yes sir. No, I don't know why you pulled me over."
"I've heard about you big city boys and your slick imports and that drifting race thing you do."
"Drifting? What?!"
"Sure. This car, it's an import isn't it, son?"
"Well yeah, it's a Toyota Celica."
"That's what all you drift racers drive."
"Shut it. City Boy."
"Sir, with all due respect, Albuquerque is not exactly a hotbed of the hip Urban scene. We're not Miami or LA."
"Then why are you drifting, son?"
"Excuse me, sir?"
"Drifting son, you were drifting"
"Sir, I stayed in my lane the whole time. The steering is just a little loose on this old rust bucket."
"Well, you may have stayed in your lane. But you were clearly going from one side of your lane to the other."
"But sir, that isn't drifting."
"What would you call it son?"
"Well, drifting... but not that kind, I mean if you looked up the definition in the dictionary it might qualify as drifting, but that isn't the dangerous racing kind."
"Drifting is drifting, son."
"Uh, sir? You do know that there can be more than one definition for a word? For instance, retreat can mean to fall back during battle, but it can also mean a quiet place to rest and reflect."
"Retreat is for sissies, son. Real men advance."
"Whatever. But even if you think I was 'drifting', I certainly wasn't racing.""Well that depends on what definition you use, son."
"OH COME ON! There is only one kind of racing."
"Do you have loved ones waiting at the end of your journey, boy?"
"Yes."
"Are you anxious to see them?"
"Yes."
"Then I would say that you are 'racing' home to see them."
"That isn't what drift racing means, and you know it. But, OK. Just give me a ticket and let me on my way."
"Simmer down, boy. Initial the little boxes and sign on the line."
"Fine! Here, hold my beer while I sign that."
