And running like hell is not exactly my thing, so um... duck and cover? Lay low and hide from the cops kidnapping? Pray that a spice-time continuum traveling being finds us and saves us?
And perhaps. I mean, if anything my husband to be can be the getaway driver. Were both maniacally aggressive drivers, but he's more cool headed. He'd be the better of us. Or you know, if we just so happen to run into a race car driver.