Crashing Miss America

Despite foggy weather Haskell continued to defend his turf, wanting a preview of future top entertaining summer contenders.

“Cooper,” Haskell screamed, and a young man emerged, water pellets residing, underneath his eyes.

“Why are you crying?” Haskell inquired.

Taking a second breath, Cooper responded, “I usually have tears in rain conditions”

“But, Cooper,” Haskell suddenly paused, “my pal Max was supposed to show me, something today.”

“Well,” Cooper started explaining, “there was a dangerous driver who thought they were a winner, and when merging traffic, navigating this rural road, heard their account was out of the money, due to a maiden claiming.”

“Claiming?”

“For one thing, it was no fake, about being out of the money,” Cooper reported, “And the collision happened, it was so sad all he wanted was to show true feelings, saying Peggy Sue I Love U.”

“Wait a second, Max was having a rozay summer,” Haskell started spewing facts, “that seals it about the hypocritical fast-track lifestyle,” Haskell threw up his hands and bolted.

Arriving at the scene, a panic-stricken victim said, she had nothing to do with what happened, “Duela dent,” the police took the information, searching for what hit the winner.

Noticing, she was a maiden with special weight, Haskell proceeded with respectable caution. Realizing she was on Haskell turf the lady did not keep any secrets and verbally stated a platform.

“Sir I did not know that man was a virtuoso in this place, writing stories,” expressed the nervous and scared character.

“Max was my friend,” Haskell honestly informed, “he had a show, and audiences thought he was a pandemic hero knowing everything, saved many lives with the published scribbles.”

“I feel awful, but I had nothing to do with his death,” she pleaded opening the back seat door, “look I heard he was out of the money, and I conveniently have this empty container, it's a Big Ern, McCracken requested me to get, but you can have it for Max.”

Stepping away the traumatized beauty temporary departed the spotlighted scene, to ponder tragic reasons allowing a law enforcement individual to approach Haskell, “your friend,” the officer pen tapped his notebook, “the person you thought was a winner, hit a Finkle wrinkle in the road.”

“And he bended the wrong way,”

“Yes,” the officer confirmed. “She says he must have seen an Irish Mccraken, hit that tree perfectly, handled many woodpeckers' daily assignments, knocking the bark to the ground.”

“And in a second redemption Speight,” Haskell noted, “that’s wild Jaime, a long shot conclusion.”

“It’s Officer Jaime,” the patrol representative corrected.

Still standing commanding the turf, ignoring the miserable weather, Haskell peered up, “Anything else the maiden was claiming? Officer Jaime?”

“She said, we live for this game, and honestly, it shows,” Officer Jaime continued.

“Creates repeat business for the auto body shop and without insurance she would be out of the money,” Haskell glared.

Due to mudslinging sloppy claiming condition realities, Haskell made things clear, “you know Max was a second gunnery sergeant prior to settling here, and he protected this blue marble globe show, we live on.”

“And had not El dollar,” Officer Jaime commentated, “died out of the money.”

“That is not true, Officer,” Haskell pointed out, “Jaime, he sealed this main track, really well, and despite never getting a Father’s Day card he was a run happy pappy winner.”

Suddenly, Cooper returned, “Haskell you are on good turf,”

“Why do you say that?” Haskell questioned.

“Cops proved it, the lady hit him,” Cooper reported, “and gave her a starter allowance, since she fixed many things.”

“And then,”

“Acting like a winner she announced, ‘I will have a magical marriage with a Spanish noble at his place’,”

Feeling his stomach churn, “I hope she got what she wanted,”

“Says he’s got Swaggert, and acts the show part, in their relationship,” Cooper added.

“Well, there she goes,” Haskell watched, seeing her escorted, into a car featuring flashing lights, “Miss America off to her space launch even know she is out of the money.”

“Busted like Maxwell Smart, tying Don in all those knots,”

“Trumpicated, I guess you could say,” Cooper concluded joining Haskell thanking Officer Jaime for the great detective work.