the makings of a scary movie

I've spent the majority of my summer having scary movie marathons late into the night with my good hometown friend.  It's great fun.  Up until I have to go home.

One particularly frightening night, my friend was driving me home at about 2am.  The night, by the way, doesn't get much darker than it does 2am.  Desperate to feel safe and contained, we threw ourselves into the most available car in her driveway, which coincidentally was a smelly Jeep storing a broken lawnmower in the back seat.  We fended off our terror with loud pop music and fast driving.

A stop sign quickly approached us and my friend hit the brakes fairly hard.  I didn't mind the harsh driving if it got me to my house faster. But what I did NOT like at ALL was the lawnmower flying up from the behind and slamming into the back of my seat.

I shat myself and screamed explosively for half a second until I realized it wasn't a grody ghost orphan or a nightmarish homicidal pervert.  Just... just a lawnmower.  Right? Right.

Just realized I didn't draw seatbelts. Am I lazy, or dangerous?! YOU decide!!