Well, here we go again. No word limit, I'm just doing this one as practice.

Disclaimer: I don't own TFP or any lyrics used within.

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You can't hurt me, you can't scare me

Maybe I am the king of pain

You can't hurt me, you can't scare me

You will never be able to reach me

Who am I? What is 'me'?

I'm not a hero on this day

Who am I? What is 'me'?

I am a freak that will never break

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The city of Sunbury, Pennsylvania, wasn't anything interesting or exciting if you were driving through. It had a long history, but nothing most younger people would take much of an interest in, unless they lived there. It was nothing more than any other city, small but bustling and bustling yet cozy. A city surrounded by farmland and country folk had that feel to it.

The occasional Amish buggy was seen on the road. Most people who lived in the residing towns saw them as a common occurrence. They sold everything from eggs, to quilts, to hand crafted furniture. A staple of the community, though a little odd to people just passing through, like many were.

The local college was a place of pride for the neighboring city of Lewisburg. Bucknell, home of Bucky the Bison, and host to every sport under the sun. Being the largest private arts college in the nation didn't hurt, either, whatever that was good for.

The city, and its surrounding towns, if a bit boring for those who grew up in the hustle and bustle of a metropolis, were a peaceful place to live.

Well... until the wee hours of a certain Sunday morning.

Out of the blue and without a trace of reason, a car sat on the side of the road. It parked in a grass ditch, right in front of the local dairy farm. The car sat for a day, baking in the sun and getting coated in pollen. When the police were called about it, it wasn't because the car was on private property. Out there, most people wouldn't really care about it, so long as it wasn't blocking traffic. They came because said vehicle was making the milk cows act funny.

By funny, the dairy owner meant that the damn bovines wouldn't come away from it for milking.

The cop that arrived on the scene was an older gentleman, graying at the temples and not easy to shake. He'd decided since his route home was on the same road the car was said to be, that he'd take on the duty of looking. He decided to just give it a once over, ignoring the friendly milk cows who were stretching their necks to sniff the seemingly abandoned car.

In all of twenty minutes, the older gentleman gave it the all clear. He found the car to be perfectly normal, and not a threat to anyone. His findings were simple: the car was a 2009 Mopar Challenger. It had a custom paint job of turquoise and indigo. The only things truly out of place was that there was no license plate to be seen, along with the odd scrawling on the windshield. The luminescent green paint spelled out a simple message for all to see:

'U START HER U KEEP HER'

The officer gave a chuckle and wiped his brow with the back of an arm. It was all more likely than not some prank by some of the college students. Bucknell was far from a party college, but there was nothing saying they couldn't pull a prank or two. Probably some boy's car, driven all the way out to their little city to give him a scare. The keys were probably out with the cows, under a couple inches of mud and pies. He'd been young once, he got the joke.

Still, it was his duty to report the odd vehicle.

He filled out a report, let the car be, and searched the database for the vehicle. No one claimed it. No reports came in about a missing vehicle matching that description. Not from the state of Pennsylvania, or the states surrounding it. Nothing happened concerning the car, and even the cows stopped crowding it, save for the early mornings. Some left nose prints, or even tongue prints, on the door and window closest to the fence. The feat may well have caused more than a few little zaps from the electric fence.

So then, why not let this unclaimed car sit for a while? Whoever placed it there had thought about it, so it seemed. Anyone on that road would be coming from or going to Lewisburg, and would have no choice but to see the car and it's message. It wasn't like the dairy owner really cared about it, now that his cows came away from it for milking.

Naturally, eventually, word got around. There was a free car on the side of the road, to whoever could start it. People started to pull off to one side of the road, and meet the challenge of the lolspeak dare. If one drove by the Challenger, there was a high chance that there was another vehicle parked in front of it.

No one could open the driver's side door, or any door. No key was in the ignition, and looking for the keys only managed to lead to more frustration and dirtied pants. On occasion, some people got fed up, and tried to pry it open. They tried all things, from paper clips to chisels, to a tennis ball of all things. The cattle lost it whenever someone tried to break into the car, bellowing like a pack of wolves were on them. The only evidence of the attempted break-ins were the faint scratches on the door.

Looking in through the windows showed a little more than most would expect, but not very much. The handle for the gearshift was a tacky eight-ball. The seats were black. A dog-eared little tree hung from the rear view mirror. The sound system showed a wide display, touchscreen, ready to accept CD, iPod, even cassettes. For a slightly older model, the car was in near perfect shape, fresh off the lot at a glance. A new question replaced the old: Why put so much into a car, only to leave it for anyone to take?

For a few months, people tried. They tried, and failed. The paint on the window eventually faded to sun bleached white, and rains carried away any dirt or pollen accumulated over time. Attempts to open the car dwindled. People shrugged off the nice car on the roadside. Buggies trundled by it without a glance. The only ones to give the vehicle any attention were the bovines in the field, and soon enough, they'd be moved into the back pasture for better grazing. It wasn't long before the vehicle was truly abandoned.

And so it was that the custom painted, decked out, unclaimed vehicle would remain abandoned on the side of the road for the next two months.

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R&R.