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Sorry, I have nothing of worth to say and even if I did, it would be mostly crappy.
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**UPDATE** Alas, the van of mini, is no longer with us... But, I thought this story was worth keeping around for laughs. Now I have something smaller and sportier, that gets better gas millage... I do miss the cargo space, though.

Well, first I would pick you up in my pimp mobile (1997 Mercury Villager .... GS!!!!), than I would put on the soundtrack from Disney's Aladdin while I give you the stink eye. Then I would "accidentally" run out of gas in the middle of nowhere. After repeated unsuccessful attempts at trying to get into your pants, I would give up and move on the phase two of the date. Phase two mainly consists of me crying a lot while going on a scenic tour of all the public restrooms in the area. After that I would break down and start ranting at children on the streets. Eventually I would get arrested for public urination and spend the night in lock up with a guy named Yellow Number 5. He would teach me all about the secrets of the universe and all he would require from me for such vast wisdom would be a spooning session..... I swear, that's all we did...... really......... I'm not that kind of girl.

After I get released I hear from the friend of my dates, cousins, former roommate that she ended up taking my sweet ride out on the town all night. She ended up crashing it in a ditch outside of the local disco tech, where some really hot rich guy saved her and they went off and got married and had 2.5 kids. I of course was shocked to find out that I was trapped in a temporal bubble that made time pass very quickly, the hours for me, were like years to everyone else.

I eventually found my mini van, it was being used as a religious shrine for a sect of disillusioned Catholics. They had a legend that the one true owner of the van would one day return and reclaim what was rightfully his. When I approached they all started babbling and praying later I found out they had been using my school ID (you know the one with all the zits on my face) as a holy verification device, which of course I passed quite handily.

I went on to rule those poor misguided souls and grew my army of converts until the seventh hour of the seventh day of the seventh month of the seventh 7-11 that was built at the corner of 7th street and 7th avenue. When my power was at it's greatest I developed my mini van into a time machine and traveled back in time when Scott Baio was just a weak little 10 year old kid and totally kicked his ass.

Being that my work was done and I didn't have enough gas money to get me to the present I decided to self-implode for the good of over-arching plot points.

The End