[It kind of hard to miss a wiener mobile rolling down the streets of Victorian London. Especially when you consider that it's Victorian London. But despite acquiring the proper Sherlock Holmes-esque attire, he's not going to abandon Irma to the hands of people that won't appreciate her. So he continues to roll down the street as the fog comes in, turning on the lights and leaning on the horn, letting it bellow into the night.
He's not going to hit anyone either. That would be a totally lame way to spend this particular trip.]
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He's not going to hit anyone either. That would be a totally lame way to spend this particular trip.]