"Seriously, how long has it been since you last took a bath?" On a Colorado highway, Star-Lord Quill frowned at the raccoon in the passenger seat. He sniffed hard and said with undisguised disgust, "I feel like you've started fermenting. You stink."
"Worse than that. Maybe I passed out drunk in a bar last night and got covered in vomit."
"Ugh! Damn it, get out of the car! I'm taking you to that lake over there and scrubbing you clean!" Quill slammed on the brakes, nearly sending the unbelted raccoon through the windshield. Even though he did not actually go flying, Rocket Raccoon's head still smacked violently against the car.
"Oh, God!" Rocket Raccoon muttered a curse in a language Star-Lord could not understand, then said, "I lied to you. I'm a raccoon. Raccoons love being clean, don't you know that?"
"No, you have to get out. I need to inspect your hygiene and make sure you don't have some contagious disease... God, is there some kind of wildlife inspection and quarantine law here? Someone, please save me."
Without another word, Quill got out of the car. He walked around the front, intending to reach the passenger side, but Rocket Raccoon nimbly leaped into the driver's seat, ducked beneath it, and stomped on the accelerator. The car shot away with a whoosh.
"Hey, my car! Wait! Don't run, you damned raccoon!"
A few minutes later, Star-Lord Quill leaned against the hood, gasping for breath. Rocket Raccoon sat in the driver's seat and picked at his ear. "Who was it that called me uninspected, unquarantined wildlife?"
"You win!" Quill flipped Rocket Raccoon off, pulled open the driver's door, tossed the raccoon into the passenger seat, then got back in. "Quit screwing around. We need to reach NASA's Colorado base before dark.