Short term car insurance and bank robbing

You wouldn't think that a person such as me, a guy fresh out on parole with a brand-new, state-of-the-art electronic tether device, would have any particular need for short term car insurance, and that's exactly how I want it. I want you and everybody else to think that I'm riding my Dad's old Schwinn bike with the bald tires back and forth to my new job at the golf course, that I never go out at night, and the only thing I've been doing besides taking scrupulous care of my diabetic cat, is going to the birthday parties of my nieces and nephews and eating too much chocolate cake.

I told the insurance agent, I said "Look. I don't know what kinda car it's gonna be. Maybe a sports car, maybe a van, then again maybe somethin', you know...unassuming. Somethin' that people won't notice."

He was stupefied, right? That's what anybody'd expect--stupefication--and there it was all over his face like a sugar doughnut. He's all like "You want short term insurance for an unspecified car?" All this time I'm gettin' phone calls from my friend who wants to know about important stuff, like what size body armor do I need, what's the number for the guy who knows about safes--all that stuff you need to know to get organized.

So I said to the guy, I said, "Listen. My cat, Amorous (yeah, I call him Amorous), he needs to go to the vet like twice a month for this problem he has with his ankle joint. I borrow him a carrier from the neighbor, put him in it, we go out on the street and hitchhike till we get a lift, 'cause the vet Amorous likes is across town. My problem is," I say, "what if whoever picks us up gets sick on the way an' starts losin' his Quarter Pounder and fries? Can't take over driving unless I know I'm insured."

I think I'm talking with a competent insurance professional, right? I'll give you one guess what he said. He said "That's the second cat named 'Amorous' I've heard of today." So then he starts talking about every cat name he's ever heard as an insurance agent.

Finally I decide what I'm gonna do, 'cause I can't get the guy to shut up about cats. I need to get his attention, right? I figure even if I tell him the truth there's no way he's gonna believe me. Either that, or I'll tell him, you know, "Hey zipperhead, in case you haven't figured it out, let me spell it out for ya: me and my buddies are gonna rob the bank at 33rd and 9th next Tuesday, and I need proof-of-insurance to show my parole officer for the getaway vehicle, whatever kind it is, or he's gonna send me back to prison. Now you know all the details: sell me some short term insurance," and he'll start telling me about all the bank robbers he's sold insurance to, and how they all had nice cats with funny names, and geez.