James Hibberd

Twenty minutes ago: A shuttle van stuffed with Emmy-goers who parked in the Shrine Auditorium’s cheap-seats garage stops at an intersection just in time to see a car slam full force into another vehicle that’s making a left turn.

The head of the impacted driver, a large woman, knocks violently against her door window as her airbag explodes. Her vehicle spins out of its orbit, its front end turned into an accordion. The Emmy-goers exclaim “oh my Gods” and profanities.

The woman’s car rolls, uncontrollably, out of the intersection. While the car’s still moving, a boy, about 10, jumps out of the passenger side, clutching his left arm. A traffic cop rushes over.

Over at the striking vehicle, angry teenage guys leap out, unhurt. Start screaming.

The Emmy-goers go quiet.

“That’s a bad omen,” somebody says.