Johnny Law knocks on my door this morning. Seems a neighbor put in a report of a 'suspicious vehicle'. I've had the 55 out of the garage and on the street for two days because I've been busy with my GMC, and too lazy to do the car shuffle thing. Looks like I have my first suburb incident. I also had my 68 Ford pickup on the street. That has been in the same spot for two months. I replaced it with my GMC, but haven't gotten around to selling it, so the Ford sits on the street with a fake plate. Sure enough, Flatfoot runs the plates for everything in front of the house, and the plates for the Ford come back to the GMC in the driveway, which is backed-in, and wearing a TX plate on the front, with PA inpection stickers. The pig bastard was cool about it though, he just asked me to pull the Ford off the street. I'll have to send the boys some donuts for being nice. Wait, these are street cops, so sending donuts to the station wont get to them, and sending donuts to a Dunkin' Donuts would be silly. I'll just stop leaving dogshit on their windshields. Now I have to figure out which neighbor doesn't like hot rods, and show her the value of a lawn donut. I miss the city. Things were so much easier when I knew who was shooting at me. I really owe that cop for being cool about it, he could have really fucked my day.