The Coughing Fit of the Cheeseball

The short man tipped toed across the empty parking lot. It was 6:59 on a Friday night. He didn't want his supervisors to know he was sneaking out a minute early. He stopped at his red, blue, black, green, white, brown, an uglier green, and rust sedan and opened his briefcase on his trunk. He looked around to make sure no one was watching. He quickly pulled out what he wanted and slammed the briefcase shut again. He got down on his hands and knees and slid the briefcase off the trunk. He crawled on his belly to the driver's side door and cracked it. He slid in scrapping his knees, belly, and forehead. He sat lower than the window and started the car. To the untrained eye it looked like the car was moving on its own out of the parking lot. Once clear of the building and the parking lot the man sat up and ate the celery stalk he pulled from his briefcase. He cheered as he drove away down the street...It was 7:04.