The Call of Death. Maybe.
Yesterday I was driving behind a white van with a sticker which said "How's My Driving? 020 8446 8547."
I couldn't work out what disturbed me about that at first. Then I realised the number is a land line.
That raises all sorts of existential questions. How can the driver be driving and answering the land line somewhere?
Unless he's got some kind of Michael Keaton in Multiplicity thing going on. Which I doubt. God what a waste of multiple bodies that film demonstrated. I didn't even see the film but I know for a fact that at no point did he use a spare body as an alibi to get away with the horric but entirely morally jusitfiable torture and murder of a self-rightous politician or moaning child.
The Keatons at home
And what happens if I call that number on the back of the van to complain? I probably crash the car, because I'm on the phone.
Then someone rings the number from the sticker on the back of my car which says "How's my driving? 020 368 4688". Then they crash their car because they're on the phone. And someone else rings the number on the back of their car and...
...the cycle continues for ever.
Or something.