It's Not Abandoned

"Ho-lee shit, I've never seen an abandoned dump truck before!" Janey climbed up and peered into the cab. "Obviously it's not abandoned," I said. "The workers are on, I dunno, lunch or something."

"Lunch? It's three o'clock! This is abandoned. And the keys are in it!"

"I'm going home, Janey."

Five minutes later, I answered my door. Janey hung her head in contrition. "The truck's stuck in the ravine," she said.

"Oh, Christ." I followed until I saw the truck's grill pointing up into the sky, rear buried in young birch trees and blackberry brambles. "Hey," I said, "Those fellas might want a word with you." Janey looked down the road at the two men in safety vests, running toward us.

"Ohshitohshitohshit," she said. "Put this on." She waved a self-adhesive fake mustache in my face.

"These obviously won't do anything." She stuck it on my face anyway.

One of the men called out, "Did you see what happened here?"

"'Appened?" Janey's French accent was atrocious. "Ah 'ave no idea hwat you mean."

He just stared. "O-kaaaay. Let's get some help down here. Excuse us... fellas."

As we walked back to my house, Janey said, "I knew it would work!"