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" An old pickup truck approached from ahead, slowed, and seemed ready to stop. The driver leaned out and yelled, “Come on, Romey, not again.” The cop turned around and yelled back, “Get outta here!” The truck stopped on the center line, and the driver yelled, “You gotta stop that, man.” The cop unsnapped his holster, whipped out his black pistol, and said, “You heard me, get outta here.” The truck lurched forward, spun its rear tires, and sped away. When it was twenty yards down the road, the cop aimed his pistol at the sky and fired a loud, thundering shot that cracked through the valley and echoed off the ridges. Samantha screamed and began crying. The cop watched the truck disappear, then said, “It’s okay, it’s okay. He’s always butting in. Now, where were we?” He stuck the pistol back into the holster "
― John Grisham , Gray Mountain