"I guess I thought southern vengeful spirits would be politer."
"Yeah, damn them. All those haints, haunts, ghosts, spirits – no manners."
The Impala lurched sideways. Dean slammed on the brakes. "What the hell? Did you feel that?"
"Of course I did. What did you hit?"
Dean jumped out. He came back scowling. "A pothole the size of Texas is what. No flat at least."
He'd only driven three minutes before he yelled, "Can you feel that shudder? The axle's probably bent. Goddamn it!"
"So, do you love Mississippi roads too?"
"Tomorrow, we drive straight to Alaska. Find us a hunt."
A/N: I live in the South so I do feel free to take a whack at it when I wish.