Flash Three was the darkest Flash of all. He worked at the Nissan store. Flash Three was a genuine scum. I mean pedophile level scum. He looked like a Klingon with a wide mottled forehead, arched bushy eyebrows and a permanent scowl.

A school bus stopped on the corner near the store. Every time a group of junior high girls walked by he ran out and made some comment to them. “What’d you let it get so hot for?” or “How’s school going girls?” Even among car salesmen he was reviled.

His demise at Nissan came early one morning. Flash Three received a disturbing phone call. He hung up and ran screaming from the building past a row of new mini-vans. He jumped in a random van, cut it sharp and raked the sides out of the vans on his right and left. He hopped out of the van and surveyed the damage. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s try this again.”

He floored it and crashed into the row of trucks directly behind him. Five brand new vehicles demolished in less than a minute. He still holds the record.
There’s just something about that name. Flash.