["This is just a title in search of a story, isn't it?" the narrator asked himself.
"What do you think all these blog entries are?" he replied.
"Self referentialism is so 1992," he dismissed himself, "Get on with a story!"]
The balding tyres squealed in agony as Bravo arced through the intersection, sirens close behind.
These pigs ain't gonna catch me! he thought to himself in cliched gangster.
A surprisingly dull high-speed chase later, Bravo sat relaxing in his club, the sounds of pursuit receding rapidly into the distance.
Aah, a job well done, Bravo was congratulated by his own mind.
THE END
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