POO MONSTERS
"Quick," he said, "grab the forty miles per hour sign." She bent down and felt around under her seat for the A3-sized placards that he had made up. She pulled them out and flipped through them, looking for the one he wanted. "Good grief, would you look at this idiot?" growled Michael. "Doesn't he know what a de-restricted sign means, for heaven's sake?" He changed down into third gear and cruised up to a few yards behind the bumper of the car in front, edging out towards the...