Put it into first and the narrative engine grumbles, deep and throaty, so I move up to second and now you’re purring up behind traffic and checking yourself out in the mirror. You look good, too. Don’t forget to keep an eye on the road.
Eventually things open up and you can shift into third, and Ellie pokes at the radio, trying to find whatever station she left the iPod adapter tuned to. The lanes are both more crowded and more comfortable, but suddenly everyone’s pulling up short: the gap in the drawbridge yawns before her–
She puts it into fourth.