This story is about a man in California, named Rozenstern, but let's call him Rick for short, and his car. Rick is wot what we would call an "Environmentalist," but he likes the environment well enough. Plus, in California, where Rick lives, all the cool people at his office are driving Prii. So Rick buys one also, not because he particularly likes driving, but because some unknown force told Rick to buy it. Rick drives it to his worthless desk job every day. Rick finds his life is empty, completely filled with nothingness. Rick knows he must change this, but he is content to watch his life wither away. He has never done anything special or of any particular merit in his life. However, somewhere, deep inside him, he knows that he must find some passion, or some task, that he may throw what is left of his body and soul into. Finally, he is called on. Rick does not remember who did called him to it, or why he did what he did, but a voice called out to him, "Rick, use your Prius to inspire the world!"

And so Rick did as he was told. He gussied up his Prius, using Orange and Yellow, not because he particularly liked thoes colors, but because he could not see any reason why not to. He felt drawn to them, and despite realizing what was becoming of his belovd Prius, he did not alter from his course.

Eventually, Rick brings his Prius to SEMA. Rick's Prius is gawked at and spat upon by onlookers. Eventually, Rick asks a young blogger, in a particularly striking Burberry scarf, to join him in the boating section of SEMA. Rick then attempts, with every ounce of charm and wit, to get the blogger to buy the Prius from him, because he knows that this blogger has a class reunion coming up. The blogger flatly refuses. Rick gives up. He knows that he has created a monster, and can no longer keep it in the world. In the dead of night, when all the Tracked-H2Ts and Corvettes have turned their lights off and their owners have gone home, Rick sneaks into the area. Rick blugens a guard or two, and drives his quiet prius out of the building, almost hitting a grandmother out for a midnight stroll because she could not hear the whisper-quiet Prius.

Rick drives for mile upon miles. He knows he can not stop, but he knows he can not go on forever. He tries to drive all his fears, his hopes and eventually his dreams away. Eventually he realizes that it is useless. The one thing he tried to do to fill up his tragically empty life has ruined him. Rick, driving rapidly down a windswept desert road in the pitch dark, suddenly sees a light. Rick slowly turns his steering wheel to the right, not knowing why or how, but he knows that he must. Rick collides into a lone lightpole in the middle of the desert, the life of his Prius, and perhaps, very soon, Rick's. Indeed, Rick thinks that perhaps he could survive, but he dosen't change the course of events. He does not exit the car. In the split second before Rick's brain loses all functionality, he has a moment of peace and fulfillment, knowing that the Prius has finally been put to death, but content to not make any effort to remove lift up a lambo-door and remove himself from the burning wreck of the mangled orange and yellow Prius.

(Some inspiration taken from Tom Stoppard's play "Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead")

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Nothing can help that awful heap of dung.

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regarding that thing next to it: no words, they should have sent a poet.