Many years ago, while traveling down a four lane road in Kansas City. I was going east on this road (name with held cause I want to with hold it), and approaching a bridge that rose a bit upward. A brand new Mustang came roaring from behind me and passed me like I a comet passing the moon. The Mustang topped the crest of the hill ahead of me about the middle of the bridge, and then disappeared from sight. As I came over the hill, I suddenly realized there was some sort of black oil slick in front of me on the road, and the Mustang was no where in sight. Slowing down I began glancing around and spotted the oily skid marks swerving to the right and ending at a damaged rail on the side of the road. Fearing the worst, I drove to the end of the bridge and u-turned to proceed underneath the bridge. The road ran alongside the bridge going both directions on each side of the bridge, and crossing over underneath the bridge to service the businesses lined up on both sides of the bridge. Pulling up, I could see the crumpled remains of the Mustang upside down, while the wheels still spinning in the air, and the roof of the car crushed flat against the car's sides, like a crushed aluminum can. I jumped out to see if I could render assistance, and was immediatel joined by another driver who also was passing by at the same time. We both ran to the car calling out to see if any person or persons were inside the wreckage was still alive, but no sound came from the twisted steel. Not giving up hope, the other driver ran back to his truck, and brought back a large pry bar. We inserted the bar between the door and the frame and after considerable effort managed to open the door about two feet. For a second we both held our breath not knowing what kind of mess was inside the car dead or alive. Suddenly from inside the car a set of fingers and then hand appears, followed by an arm and the rest of the driver's figure. He pulls himself out of the wreckage, and slowly gets to his feet, while straightening out his disheveled clothes and brushing off the road debris from his shirt and pants. Oblivious to the fact that we were even standing there, the man turns back to the car (or at least what was left of the car) and surveys the scene for a long second. He then rears back and gives the car a vicious kick. Muttering aloud in a gravely voice he proclaims digustedly "Damn Mustangs, can't even handle a little hill". As things turned out, he was not seriously injured, just a few bumps and bruises, but he was still pissed off about the car's lack of handling. He continued on exclaiming the lack of control by the Mustang, and how it was all the car's fault! Some people just don't get it do they?