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    Driving headlong into a field at night while running from the police, my three-wheeler flipped on a rock and I was flung up into the air. A couple of high-power fluorescent lights shone briefly in my eyes like some sort of mad spinnarettes, and with a loud impact I blacked out.

    I awoke the next day staring at a misty blue sky. The faint buzzing of flies in my ear, damned mid-summer black flies. I managed to turn myself over on to my belly and lifted my body upright. A spasm of pain ripped through my body. Had I broken a vertebrae? Where *was* I?

    My vision began to clear and my head's buzzing dulled to a roar. I felt the roughness of my seat...I was on a rooftop! A trailer rooftop, harsh shingles, hot to the touch. How long had the sun been up? And why did no one wake me up, or call the police?

    I clambered a few feet over to the end of the roof and peered down. The Honda three-wheeler was upside-down almost directly beneath me. A ten foot drop.

    To heck with it. I jumped down, my ankles both screaming on protest. I dared not look at them-I wanted to pretend I was fine. My irrational brain thought one thing: get out of there fast! I was still in flight mode from the previous night, even after getting conked. I righted the little red Japanese  three-wheeler and tried to kick-start it awake...but nothing. A smell of gas started to trickle its way into my nose,overcoming the  powerful odour of blood , most likely from my face-on impact the night before.

    Damn. What to do?

    I surveyed where I was...groggily. Was that a sign above the roof of the garage?...my God...it was Mad Joes!!

    I pushed the three-wheeler to the gas pump and glugged in a few bucks worth of fuel. With the three-wheeler ready I went in to hurriedly pay. Hopefully Justin wouldn't ask too many questions, or notice my face was bloodied and I smelled like a whiskey cabinet.  

    "Rough night, Dave?" Justin asked as I handed him a crumpled five-dollar bill.

    I mustered an affirmative, to which he leaned down and whispered, "I have a cure for you...feeling real bad right now?"

    "Yeah...but..."

    "Here." he scooped up several potato logs from the bin. Still steaming. "These will do you good. I just started another batch and these have to go, the little stragglers. Just eat 'em up before you take off. No charge, man."

    I thanks Justin as best as I could and staggered out. I threw myself, body aching, on the three-wheeler and prepared for a furious and sketchy ride through some back roads to my place and then some real sleep. I wolfed down the logs, head still burning, joints all aching, back possibly broken in several places...

    ...Within seconds, even before I finished letting the pull out on the starter, I felt a twinge of joy come over my body. The blood crust fell away from my face and landed on the ground...my clothes began to glow and shine, and the dirt and grease from the night before whirled off in a tornado of grime, away from me. I could feel my hair re-forming an falling into place, sand particles flying out and leaving clean red strands behind. And my pain was gone! My head, my back, my ankles-all felt fine!!!

    I sped out, throwing Justin and the rest of the staff at Mad Joe's the Devil Horns. The potato logs there are so badass. As is the rest of the store in general.

    They have really awesome subs and other snacks too, and yummy beers. as well as rockets and remote control kits. Seriously this place has everything you could ever want.

    Including rock-star miracles.

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