Oh, Vols-themed Fiat 500. You tell no lies. You make up no stories, and offer only mysteries. Was this owned by Derek Dooley? (Certainly, let's just assume so without checking.) Did he drive it to work until the end, with Bubbas shaking their heads along the way as they disdained its miniscule frame, its espresso machine styling, and the bumper rolling into the distance without a trace of a trailer hitch to be seen on it? Did he do this while wearing orange pants, orange pants he would spill an entire espresso onto while screaming nasal profanities to an indifferent silence?
Did he, pulling into his parking space, have a brief cry, and then pick himself up while dabbing his ruined slacks with Shout Wipes?
We hope he did, because Derek Dooley deserved a cry after this season, and also because nothing makes you feel like a dirtier, more hopeless human being than spilling coffee on yourself even when you know damn well you're going to do it and take every goddamn precaution in the world against it. God, it makes you want to peel the flesh off your skull, because why do you try anything? WHY DID YOU BUY SUCH A TINY CAR, AND YET SUCH A HUGE FUCKING CUP OF SCALDING LIQUID POSSESSED BY A DESIRE TO RUIN LIGHT COLORED FABRICS?
Where was this going? Oh yeah, that's a picture of a Fiat 500. Before we got unusually angry over this random Derek Dooley we just made up: it tells no lies, spills no coffee where it shouldn't, and makes up no fake girlfriends. You're pretty great like that, random SEC paint job Fiat. Keep doing what you do.