Mayhem held her breath to steady her aim, and focused her vision on where the driver should be. A chill went up her spine, "...No one's driving it." The ATM swerved violently, now hidden by a large dumpster.
"A Change of plans then?" Smon asked.
"---," But Smon was cut off when the Weinermobile changed tune, though the recording that 'sang' the song sounded echoey, and diabolical, as if a chorus of mutated, dead orphans were the ones chanting, ..."Oh I wish I was an Oscar Mayer weiner, for that is truly what I'd like to beEeEeEeEeEeEeE, for if I was an Oscar meyer Weiner...everyone would be in love with me..." The final note held too long for comfort, a bone-chilling laugh at it's heels.
The engine roared thrice, St Jimmy and Smon smacking their heads with their palms at once. But Jimmy explained, "He knows we're here, and he's calling us out."