My Report On My Families Car
                   by Philip

     Cars are boxes with weels.  They go fast!  My Daddy drives our family car 13 and 36/57ths miles per hour.  Drunk drivers shouldn't drive cars, or more commenly refered to as boxes with weels.  Cars come in all shapes and sizes.  There are square cars, triangle cars, and my favorite, the pentegon car.  Cars are all alike, except for our family car.  It doesn't have an engine.  My baby brother, Logan, tugs at the car with 220 pound chains while Daddy steers, Mom honks the horn and I whip Logan if he starts slowing down. 
      We bought our car from a guy that was missing an arm or two.  Our car is a 1497 Ugo, otherwise refered to as a ship on weels.  My Daddy doesn't drink and drive.  He just smokes about four Cuban cigars at a time.  Sometimes he passes out while he is driving because he also likes to swallow the smoke.  My Dad is 37 years old and is currently on parole.  He is a real life drug lord, and my personal hero.  My Mom, on the other hand, is a 106 year old jungle lady, whom we saved from extinction.  She is Logans personal hero, which shows Logan has been dipping into Dads stash.  I also have a grandmother.  She likes driving too.  She drives a Jeep Cherokee.  She is 167 years old and has died 6 times.  Her name is Inka Lesto. Everyone calls her Grandma Inka.  But she is so old and wrinkled, I call her Raisin Lady.  My Granpa just got off parole.  He is a real life assassin.  He doesn't smoke though.  He just eats the butts of my Dads already smoked cigars.  My Grandpa drives a car that resembles that of a dead possum.  My great, great Uncle Cola invented Coca Cola.  He used to put cocain in it, but he doesn't anymore.  He's a big time coke addict.  He sells it illegaly on the streets with my Dad.  My Grandpa says coke helps him calm down, but i've seen him drink it.  A few minutes later he's in the bathroom pukin' blood. 

the end