The Universe's Mixer

Wash's 'night' had been lacking in the night part. Having had an interesting and informative conversation with Dexter hadn't made up for the sleep he'd lost. So he was a little less than focused this morning, which looked suspiciously like the same sun of midday.

So when the little sign turned from a green stick man to a count down to the hand he was just unfamiliar enough with the intricacies of crossing signs and just drowsy enough not to notice as he moseyed along the striped pedestrian track it turning to red and cars being given a definite green light in the meanwhile.

It had been a relatively quiet street except for one car. And Wash was also a little too drowsy to hear the sports car motor coming up to his side quickly. But, feeling the ground rumble, of all things, he looked up just in time to narrowly avoid the shiny black tires running over his shiny shoes and...the rest of his shiny self.

He felt the bumper of the sleek vehicle nip the hip of his cargo pants as he collided with the pavement of the sidewalk. He grasped the pole of the crosswalk sign yelling, "Qing wa cao de liu mang!"

(Frog humping son of a bitch!)