Regarding the extraordinarily pokey driver in front of us (Read: when you're only driving half the posted speed limit on a bright, clear, sunny day, MOVE):
Mom: I hope you turn right (at an intersection).
Dad: I hope you turn into that lake over there.
Me: ...Well, I hope you turn into a werewolf because THAT would be AWESOME!
So now when we're having murderous thoughts, we wish other drivers into werewolves.
*shrug* It works for us.
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