b. Respectfully declines
The driver doesn’t take kindly to being declined, scowling.
Why don’t you want to ride with me?
I just think I can walk there. It’s only half a mile. Plus you look weird.
I just don’t trust Australians, especially ones who drive Uber.
Well then, your choice.
The man notices the driver has devil horns sprouting from his thinning hair, and the driver laughs like a madman as he drives away. The cackles are heard even after the car disappears. As the man walks to work, Uber cars begin falling from the sky. At first they appear as tiny specks miles above, like heavenly cars descending to Earth, but then they come crashing down with tremendous force. Each contains a driver, and most wind up completely dismembered upon making impact with the ground. Limbs fly everywhere along with car parts, and the man attempts to dodge them.
The man manages to walk ten feet before an Uber car falls square on him, a grey 2003 Pontiac Grand Am. The man doesn’t see it fall before it hits him, but he would’ve been depressed from being killed by such an outdated vehicle. The man winds up in hell.
EXT. HELL – DAY
The man sits on a children’s high chair in the middle of a rocky platform in an ocean of lava. The Australian Uber driver flies overhead and gently flies down in his red 2004 Chevy Cobalt to the platform, and drives in front of the man. He opens the window and peers out at the man.
Death by Uber. Such a horrible way to go. So not uber.
Pardon the puns. You’ll hear them all down here.
The driver then drives off, laughing as he always does, and the man is left in the high chair with a bowl of oatmeal that will never end. He doesn’t make it to Day Five, unfortunately.
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