I'm having a lonely meal at the local slop joint. The chef decides one pickle was enough for my burger; so I decides, one baptism by fire is enough for him.
Minutes later, the pigs are on me. I'm zippin' and grindin' through the road randos, completely destroying the onlooking few. My final tire gives out and plan B shows its' sweet face. I reach into my glove compartment, and grab the serum that I've spent years developing.
I uncap that syringe.
Say a prayer, and JAB that sucker into my thigh. I swell to an enormous size becoming a genetic monstrosity. I bring chaos and terror to any direction I travel.