"Hiss, so painful." He clutched his forehead and looked up. Half of one eye was stained with blood, barely open, and his expression looked particularly ferocious.
The four people in the backseat weren't any better off. Like him, they were knocked around from the impact earlier, groaning as they sprawled across the backseat.
"Ow, my poor back. Boss, what were you doing! I told you to focus on driving and not chat. Of all the rules of the road, safety is number one, isn't it? But no, you insisted on talking, and now look at this mess. Boohoo, Holy Virgin Mary and the Buddha, my back isn't broken, right? It better not be. I've got an 80-year-old mother and a three-year-old son waiting for me—I can't be paralyzed..."
"Ugh, I hit my head. Quick, someone check for me—did I crack it open?"
"What's there to worry about? With that level of intelligence, you're afraid it'll get worse from a hit?"
"Get lost! What's wrong with my intelligence? Speak clearly!"
