Rihanna zoomed down the grocery store aisle, her chair whining at its top speed of 10 mph. Shoppers leapt aside as she leaned on the airhorn—“MOOOOOVE!”—sending a toddler into a cart of cereal boxes. Her care aide jogged after her, panting, “Rihanna, this isn’t NASCAR!” Rihanna smirked, clipped a man’s foot, and yelled, “Penalty points for standing in my lane!” before skidding to a stop at the ice cream freezer.
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