| Below are show host Officer John Bunell’s
description of the dozen or so berserk motorists (and police)
for your dancing and dining pleasure:
"These public enemy pubescents." (fleeing teen
gangbangers)
"These felony freeway flyers." (escaping bank robbers)
"These motoring marauding madmen." (hauling-ass
hooligans … oh no, I’ve got the disease too)
"These spark-slinging suspects." (on-the-lammers
with a dragging rear bumper)
"These turnpike terrorizing teens" (jail-avoiding
joyriders)
And all of this said in a gritted teeth, no nonsense, tough
guy manner. At first, I thought Bunell was kidding around,
but he’s as serious as the "Crime Dog."
In all of these adventures, the felon’s freedom is briefer
than a bubble. He sideswipes a few cars, flattens a mail box,
and runs over spike strips set out by police. Then Bunell
incredibly would say, "In a surprise move, he bolts from
the car," (Gee, might as well. He’s racked up a
ticket book full of moving felonies) and the suspect runs
into the brush where a half dozen Rottweilers flush him out
and the entire police department of Hollow Point, Tenn., hammerlock
him into an awaiting and battered cruiser. The crook is almost
always some down-and-out white guy with long, stringy hair
and an unbuttoned flannel shirt (Kurt Cobain on a bad hair
day) or some black kid whose local Gap store ran out of his
size.
Bunell always has a postscript for every suspect in these
freebase free-for-alls. (Damn, there I go again.)
"Looks like this sprinting speedster will be pitted
in the county jail for the next few years."
"This foot-failing felon has flagged down a few years
in prison with this run." … ad nauseum.
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And the show’s frantic pace and Bunell’s brainless
blabber affects the kind of ads that prop up this patched-together
Frankenstein. Keanu Reeves, Sandra Bullock, and Dennis Hopper
in "Speed," and Cash Flagg in "The Aztec Mummy
versus the Jello� Wrestlers from Saturn" movie promos
keep the adrenaline flowing like a Sid Waterman pump.
If television could be viewed as electronic methamphetamine,
this is it.
So, if the drags are rained out and you’re stuck with
a nightful of downtime and are bored to the point of considered
felonious behavior, you could do worse than miss this nutty
show. But not much.
And for the style councils that think this show should be
re-titled, "World’s Worst Drivers and Stupidest
Audiences," … uh, you may have something there.
Good god, what am I saying? Hey, my job is to start arguments,
not finish them.
Anyway, it’s back to the think tank. I’m still
trying to avoid flaming death from hot pursuit of decent ideas
to fill this space. 
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