I was a popular artist, and some high-end museum had commissioned some work. I was going to take some tree roots and cover them with paper mache. But somehow all the supplies for my artwork ended up in this black guy's car. He started driving off with them. So I hopped into my car and chased him. I followed him all night. Finally he stopped for gas at a convenience store. As he was inside paying, I hastily piled all the stuff from his car into mine and then got in my car and floored it back to my studio. Then I wrote a letter to a friend, telling her what happened.
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