Another dream-nugget from the archives of my imagination

so, Diana and I are driving in my Gina Ehlers (a friend from high school who I haven't talked to in probably 5 years...) 1990-ish Cadillac. It's lemon yellow exterior and maroon crushed velvet interior, and I have extensive small-town high school memories about it, if you'd like to ask sometime.
We're driving through downtown Chicago, and Diana whips out an open bottle of Chianti (and I'm talking the dirt-cheap, jug of Italian table wine. The one with the wicker glued to the bottom.) And starts chugging. Diana's behind the wheel, and I freak out.

S: "What the hell are you doing? You can't have an open bottle in the car!"

D: "Who are you - my mother?"

and we go on like that for a bit. Meanwhile, Diana is trying very hard to empty the bottle of Chianti between expletives, and neither of us notice that we're a) heading out of downtown due south and into a rather seedy neighborhood b) are being followed by a pretty white-and-black vehicle adorned with lights, not yet turned on.

After trying to reason with Diana, I decide that only brute physical force will ensure our safety. So I jump on her and wrestle her (while driving, mind you) for the now-empty bottle of Chianti. After some gentle persuasion (which includes biting Diana's feet), she relents and in the force of taking the bottle of Chianti from her, I lose it out the window of the car.

Thankfully for us, the empty jug-and-wicker projectile flies out of my hand in incredible slow motion, and as I scream, "Nooooooooooooooooooo!" it smashes headlong into the cop car behind us. Which is suddenly glaringly apparent.
Now, I say thankfully because of course, the cherries flash on, the sirens whoo--oooes us to a stop, and Diana and I are all like, "shh. Calm down now. We don't want the cops to think we're drunk or anything."
Christ. The whole backseat of Gina's cadillac smells like a dirty old Italian man.
So, the two cops walk up to the windows (one on each side). And they couldn't possibly be police officers, because I'm watching them, and they are grinning and chuckling and something doesn't seem right.
I'm thinking:
1) these guys are way too hot to be eating donuts all night long
2) why are their pants so tight?
3) is that cops chest glistening?

So, Diana is asked to step out of the car. Me too. They make her do the sobriety walk (which she fails miserably). She fails her breathalyzer (as you and I both would after downing a jug of chianti.)
And then, Cop A by her door says, miss, I'm going to have to issue you a citation.

D: "Dammit! What for?"

Cop A: "For being too sexy." (Grins laviciously.)

Cob B: (to me) "You too, sweetheart."


And then the alarm goes off.