When it became painfully obvious that the douche bag was not going to make good on the damage he caused...I would just simply walk away...walk away.

Of course, while leaving...my bad ankle/foot would cause me to trip and fall. Sadly, his Mustang would be directly inline with my "descent path" and lucky for me it would cushion my fall. Hey...accidents happen...right?

Needless to say, Mr. P-51B would have a rather large pile of toothpicks, but at least I would be OK.

Beave