"...this car will be unmanned."
Saw that on a bumper yesterday and didn't know where to begin. For one thing, a WOMAN was driving the car. HAH! What a sad sack: the bitch doesn't even get it that "in the case of rapture" her ass is still going to be driving that old jalopy. I can picture it now:
Christ descending from Heaven, his beatific light shining on his beloved acolytes, his caucasian face beaming benevolently at all the dear souls as they fly on past up to their heavenly reward behind the pearly gates. All the male acolytes, that is. Those poor saps with boobs and a snatch are stuck behind the wheels of their sadly labeled vehicles, faces upturned, waiting for THEIR turn to fly, fly, fly. Sadly, a turn that will never come. Because the label speaks the truth, sistas: unMANNED.
Closed eyes begin to peep open as they realize: what the fuck? I'm still in this old-ass Buick? They scan the now empty landscape, devoid of all of their godly men, who, of course, being MEN, unMANNED their cars at the rapture. Christ, his earthly work now done, waves "bye-bye" as he heads back home, the last of his "unmanned" cars now empty, as promised.
Sorry, Charlie! Better luck next rapture. What a silly little oversight. What's that you say? There won't BE a next rapture? Oh, the irony of it all.