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"Take it for a spin—" was just coming out of his mouth, in that crazy-relaxed southern drawl that was so popular around these parts, but by then I was already in gear and moving, the smoke from the tires turning his words into coughing spasms, startling passers-by, and (fortunately for me and them) prompting everyone out of the path of what no one had yet realized was a freshly-stolen Mustang convertible, bouncing off the curb and into the busy streets of Macon.
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