They didn't want to cut it, so they made me do it. I asked where they wanted me to start, and they said to start at the front. As soon as the front of the car was gone, my neighbor's husband yelled, "Kasey's hit the wall!" Unfortunately, that's exactly what happened the next day.
Kasey was doing pretty well in Sunday's race (I am not a NASCAR fan, but was secretly rooting for him after having spent more hours than I care to count re-creating him and his car out of sugar!) but it was all over but the crying when he went head-first into the wall.
But dang, his car tasted good.
And, really, that's all that matters. Right?