chapotraphouse

Buck had never had patience for traffic jams, but this was ridiculous. His jaw tightened and his neck stiffened as his palms squeezed the wheel. The late-model car was a smooth ride, but inching along in near gridlock made the huge automotive power plant feel like a stallion that wanted to run free.

I have a vague recollection that they roll out guillotines for enemies of the Anti-Christ regime in those books. I remember thinking "how the fuck do I pronounce that?"