You Had Better Stop

Mr. Cheetah’s wife was yelling “Give him a ticket! Give him a ticket!” He outraced two pickup trucks and an antelope down in the thicket. The highway patrolman was on the chase immediately, ready to write. Hurry! electronic dashboard said. In a second he will be out of sight! He'll run seventy miles an hour, robotic voice said in a persnickety way. You’d best give chase in the most enthusiastic, exuberant way! Highway patrolman, had heard of cheetahs racing, but this was new. He'd never tried to outrun one in a car, he swore the air black and blue. Cheetah had now been joined by a friend who gave Zeke the eye. He wondered how many others in their clan would be running on by. He put on his siren and made as much noise as he could to stop them. You had better stop! His wife cautioned her husband. Her face grim. Cheetah stopped suddenly, and waited for his ticket to be written out. That the other cheetah had made him do this, Zeke had little doubt. She was gloating in a way that the patrolman had seen in his own life. I’ll be snickerpackered, he said to himself. I guess she is his wife!