Two car stories:
We were driving along once, and there was a guy in some kind of red convertible going about the same speed as us. This guy thought he was pretty hot shit, and was leering at any and all girls he saw. Anyway, we get to an interstate exit, and this guy starts to turn left. Stalls the car, right in the middle of the intersection. Didn't look so cool after that
Next guy: we're in New Orleans, it's a lovely day, and we're having iced coffees outside the Cafe du Monde. Then this guy rocks up in another convertible; this one's purple, and he's had the suspension done. He's got his stereo all the way up, and he's doing laps of Jackson Square or something. He keeps driving past, playing with the suspension, bouncing the car, all that. Seriously, this guy thinks he's cooler than the first one. But he won't turn the stereo down, and he's starting to annoy us. Anyway, one pass, he flips his front right up, the back right down, and tries to give the car a bit of a bounce. There's an almigty bang, and this guy's muffler and exhaust fall right out of his car. There's a cop who won't let him drive the thing without the muffler, so he's waiting for a tow truck right in the middle of Decatur Street, with half the Quarter pissing themselves laughing at them. Sweetest karmic revenge I've ever seen