User blog comment:HumboldtLycanthrope/The Collaborative Cliche Pasta/@comment-24101790-20150307044417/@comment-25383866-20150311093424

Mikey reluctantly joined the leering albino. Before he could even close the door the other man had stomped the accelerator into the rusted floor of the vehicle, and they were shooting off down the road.

Dangling from the rear-view mirror was one of those scented trees that came in twos at the Dollar Store. Mikey focused on it, trying to time his panicked breaths with its chaotic sway. It didn't work.

"What's your name, anyway?" Mikey asked the albino.

He cackled and replied, "Some people call me... Sam. Sam Sung."

Mikey gasped, horrified, and said, "But that means- oh my god, YOU WERE PHONE!!!!"