Je retrouve parmi mes "brouillons" trace d'un de ces moments drôlatiques comme il peut y en avoir dans les films de Lynch... Ou comment un gangster fini perd son sang-froid à cause d'une queue-de-poisson et en vient à sermonner un automobiliste en reprenant le discours de la Sécurité Routière.
Don't tailgate! Don't you fucking ever tailgate! Do you know how much space is needed to stop a car traveling at 35 miles per hour? Six car lengths! Six fuckin' car lengths! That's a hundred and six fuckin' feet, mister! If I had to stop suddenly, you woulda hit me! I want you to get a fuckin' driver's manual, and I want you to study that motherfucker! And I want you to obey the the goddamn rules of the road! Fifty-fuckin' thousand people were killed on the highways last year 'cause of fuckin' assholes like you! Tell me you're gonna get a manual!
Lost Highway, David Lynch (1997)
