Where I come from, black ice is the beginning of a story with an unhappy ending—or at least, a story fraught with peril due to said menace.
Black ice is a warning. Something you best avoid. A recipe for unforeseen pain and suffering, particularly if you’re traveling atop it. The dictionary even defines it as “a transparent coating of ice, found esp. on a road or other paved surface.”
Point being, black ice sure as shit ain’t something you want your car to smell like; unless, of course, you enjoy the admixed stench of clotted blood, burnt rubber, twisted metal and the sickly sweet odor of death.
So what the fuck is this all about?