Dalton’s Mercedes-Benz represents the freedom afforded him by his life as North America’s second-best bouncer. It is the only ostentatious display of his considerable wealth. It is the vehicle he uses to travel from one town to the next, never tied down. It is the secret self he hides from his employers and antagonists alike, safe in a garage or under a tarp as his latest hoopty serves as its whipping boy.
So it means something when Dalton jams a knife through the gas pedal, pinning it to the floor, and lets the car loose in the goons’ general direction. It means something when it hits some kind of natural earth ramp and leaps above a low brick fence into the air, sustaining fire all the way. It means something when it detonates and bursts into huge gouts of flame, an explosion that means as much to Dalton’s lifestyle as the explosion of Red’s Auto Parts meant to Red Webster or Emmett’s house meant to Emmett.
Dalton’s way of doing things is over, it’s finished. It died with his car, consumed by its flames. The only question now is what will rise from the ashes.
Tags: dalton, dalton's mercedes-benz, road house