It’s rather incredible to me that someone with the money to buy a Lamborghini does not have the sense to avoid somewhere covered in snow.

Today, a rather murky sort of day it has to be admitted, I was pulling my gloves while I waited for my friend to pay for our post-piste cuppas and such a vehicle smoothly glided last, brakes spun in a very perfect circle and hit a bank of snow. The driver stayed inside, on his phone. Whether it was embarrassment that kept him there or he was just waiting for his ‘people’ to come and rescue him, I’m not sure.

That small incident reminded me of this little story I penned a while ago. Any possible connection to anyone alive or dead is entirely possible, even if not deliberate. 

Egon Tusk steepled his fingers. A good day. He allowed his gravitas a moment’s respite and smiled.

‘Sir. Egon.’ Jeremy hopped nervously

Egon allowed his perfectly trained, beautifully sculptured right eyebrow a chance to rise. What great news did his PA want to impart, he pondered?

‘It’s the lawyers. Sir. On line 4.’

A cloud skipped into view; he brushed it away with the confidence of the serially successful entrepreneur. Four quick claps and the videocon came alive. ‘Yes Jon.’

‘We’ve received a writ. About the new car.’

Egon was not given to panic. His life was a testament to control. He had even trained himself to urinate in regular quantities. He ran through the possibilities. Angry competitors whose old technology cars would be redundant in weeks. Garage owners or power companies whose fuelling businesses would be history in a year. They would lose. LOSE.

‘Go on, make me laugh.’

Jon coughed. ‘It’s a summons. The Federal Government versus Tusk Technologies. It’s seeking an injunction to stop the car’s launch. It’s accusing Tusk of breaking the law.’

‘What law, Jon? We went through everything. It’s silent, it has no emissions, it doesn’t wear any road surface, it is incapable of crashing into anything…’

‘That’s the problem, Egon. An antigravity car might avoid all the old problems but it breaks the law.’

Egon tugged at his earlobe, a habit he had trained himself out of but which resurfaced at times of stress. ‘How?’

Jon looked down at something and then up. ‘Nature, Egon. It breaks the laws of nature.’

Egon Tusk curled his fist into a ball and punched the wall. The wall fought back and pain seared through his arm, proving at least one Newtonian law still applied: every action has and equal and opposite reaction.