The cops have been chasing me for no less than seven and a half minutes now, and, in their pursuit, they have destroyed an aston martin, a hot dog stand, 14 parking meters, 3 pane glass windows, caused an orphanage to burst into flames, a boat to crash into a helicopter, catapulted 4 men dressed in foam taco suits into a truck full of cabbage, and removed the bikini tops of no less than 5 cheerleaders washing cars to raise money, apparently for higher quality bikinis. Needless to say, this chase has gone on long enough, and now that they have destroyed my aston martin, and there are no similarly high performance convertibles being driven by distracted latte sipping distracted drivers more than willing to hand over the keys to an only somewhat-blood smattered stranger, I think the best option for escape is for me to leap off this cliff, hope that, somehow, I can gain enough traction on the cliffside to run down it in a sort of silly walk/run that will inevitably result in me tumbling head over heels over a variety of objects, including, but not limited to cacti, stray dogs, an angry Uzbeki man sunbathing, a 40 foot plastic tarp smeared in engine grease, and a (possibly the same) burning orphanage.
I anticipate this fall will take no less then 45 seconds and that my hair shall remain perfectly styled.
Afterward, I will casually walk to the diner across the street, and, after ordering a bourbon, when the waitress gives me a strange look, I'll wittily respond, "Let's just say I'm diving off the cliff headfirst."
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