Pokey and the Bandit

So I'm driving across central Illinois yesterday with my wife. My sister and her husband and their big, fur-intensive dog are driving along about 10 miles behind us. We come up over a little rise and on an overpass I can see a black SUV. I tap the brake to shut off the cruise control and drift down to the speed limit. (I was going my normal five miles and hour over.) I assume the SUV is a cop using radar.We pass under the bridge and over another little rise and in front of us are a half-dozen police cars with lights blazing. It looks like there was a plane crash or something, but it's just a bunch of troopers ticketing anyone designated by the SUV on the overpass. We pass anonymously and politely through and call back to my sister behind us, telling her to look out.And we drive on for while before pulling off for gas and a 55 gallon drum of diet soda. When we get back on the freeway we call my sister and warn her that we're no longer in front of her, looking for police. We're now behind her, and she's on her own. A little while later, a black Volvo with Pennsylvania plates blows by us at about 90 miles an hour. I comment that he's probably thinking what we're thinking, which is that all the state police in the area are back working the speed trap, and it's smooth sailing. And then my phone rings, and my sister -- who is now five miles in front of us -- tells us there's another cop at mile marker whatever. I joke that we have nothing to worry about; some guy in a black Volvo just went by us at 90 and he'll clear out any cops in our path.When we get to mile marker whatever, there's the guy in black Volvo, pulled over while the cop writes a ticket. I looked at him in my rear-view mirror. He looked really pissed. I don't know why, but I got a huge kick out of that.