Wheel-Powered Flying Car

@kittman yes, exaxtly

dude!
it's a mystical flying armored armadillo!
I've seen one just briefly on a dark, moonless night, not unlike tonight, and not to far from this very spot. He crawled from a ditch right into the middle of the dirt road I was on. Then he slowly turned to face me, his eyes glowing red in the headlights of my pickup truck. He was looking directly at me with contempt. he knew that passing cars and trucks had taken from him many of his family, his kin, his friends. Once facing me he never moved, perhaps thinking his metal armor scales would protect him. No armadillo was gonna intimidate me, armored or not. I floored it, throwing dirt and gravel into the air behind my truck. When I was about two trucks-lengths from him, he did what most armadillos do when they are about to be hit by a car: he jumped into the air. he must have felt a bit of a dumb ass at that moment because the weight of his plated armor had kept the armadillo from jumping any higher than the front bumper of my truck. The impact was so intense i was thought my airbags were going to deploy.
So all the stories were true! These rare flying armored armadillos were the size of a normal armadillo but had the mass equal to hundreds of normal, non-flying, non-armored armadillos. I felt thankful that I had sped up and didn't try to swerve around it. I probably would have lost control and ended up into one of the deep ditches on either side of the road. I breathed a sigh of relief and continued home. Once parked in my garage I got out and looked at my front bumper to see the damage. Nothing more than a crushed bumper. Only when I closed the drivers door did I see it: a single, armored arm was hanging from the door handle with little tiny armored claws! It was at that moment the armored arm let go of the door handle and threw itself directly at my face. Thankfully I was able to swat it away with the Coors tall-boy beer I was drinking. That’s when I heard the noise coming from under the truck. I looked underneath just in time to watch a three-legged armored armadillo drop to the ground from under my truck. Once again I saw those red eyes looking at me. Thinking quickly, I shook up my can of beer and sprayed it directly into his face. He screamed, turned around, and hobble off into the night. I haven’t driven down that road since.
The morale of the story: always carry a tall-boy of Coors with you to protect yourself from rogue flying armored armadillos.