I was sitting at the red light, scrolling through the radio, when I felt a tremor. It came again, stronger, and I glanced in the rearview mirror. That’s when I saw it—a
lardass femmenazi, full-grown and barreling straight at me. My brain refused to process it. This was a city intersection, not an IHOP, but there it was, its bulk pounding the pavement, eyes locked on me.
It slammed into my car like a wrecking ball. The deafening
bang and screech of metal filled the air as my head snapped forward into the airbags. The car
lurched, tires squealing, frame groaning under the impact. I gripped the wheel, heart pounding as the beast let out a guttural snort. Then came the next sound—a
thunderous rumble. I looked up, and my stomach dropped. The hippo wasn’t alone.
A
riot of massive beasts was charging down the street, shaking the ground. An unstoppable wave of chaos. They tore through parked cars, crumpling them like paper, the noise a cacophony of shattering glass and screaming metal. My car was slammed sideways, spinning like a toy as another beast plowed past. The roar of the stampede faded as quickly as it arrived, leaving me dazed in the mangled shell of my car, the street eerily silent except for the faint groan of twisted steel.