I'm tied into the back seat of a lime green 76 Chevy Nova with all these grenades, plastic explosives and land mines that came from out of the back of truck that the English guy who looked like David Mellor sold to Tommy Lee Jones. After giving me a cruel smile Tommy puts a brick on the accelerator and waves me good-bye. As I pick up speedacross the lawn Whitehouse Security start to shoot at the car. Jamie Lee is with them and lands an extremely fortuitous shot which cuts straight through the fuel line. The car rolls to a halt. I'm stranded on the Whitehouse lawn with seconds on the digital clock that Tommy Lee has rigged up. Security are running for cover except for Jamie Lee who runs toward me. She's got a gadget the size of a pocket calculator. She pumps some digits into it and scans the straps of my straight jacket - checking for the booby trapped connection.
"Shit" she says and runs through another series of combinations. 25
seconds. I'm looking between the digital display and Jamie's gadget trying
to figure out which one is winning. Under the circumstances she's remaining
remarkably cool. For my part I feel a sense of embarrassment that I'm
putting all these people to so much trouble.
10 seconds and Jamie Lee says "Fuck it" and rips the last of the straps
free. I struggle out and we both run like hell away from the lime green 76
Chevy Nova. We hit the ground. There is a loud explosion and the pieces of
the car move away from each other at tremendous speed. Before the last of
the fenders, wheels, nuts and bolts have hit the ground Jamie is up on her
feet and running in the direction that Tommy Lee ran in. To be frank, the
whole experience has knocked the stuffing out of me but I suppose I'd better
follow her.
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