Rain beats down on the roof of your Saab 900 SE, sluicing down the windshield faster than your old wipers can smear them away.
Thunk, thunk, thunk, squeak
Thunk, thunk, thunk, squeak
Thunk, thunk, thunk, squeak
The two-way road is empty, the storm clouds darkening further as the sun sinks down behind them. Every so often, the front wheel drive causes the little hatchback to swivel across the road, bumping the middle divider and sending a reverberating groan through the overpacked interior.
Thunk, thunk, thunk, squeak
Thunk, thunk, thunk, squeak
Thunk, thunk, thunk, squeak
Brrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmnm
A billboard rises up in a nearby field as you near the end of the town limits, kindly illuminated by matching floodlights on right and left.