But the old red car has one last story to tell. First lets review the ways you've tormented me; it has been awhile my old nemesis. Check the links for the full posts.
From The Mouse: Posted 5/4/2010
I am not an eye witness to the mouse. I didn't see the mouse. I will try to describe the beast using the details I took from my wife's rambling. The rodent, almost mythological in proportions, reached a massive length of over ONE INCH! That would make its fangs almost half a millimeter long. The demon creature has it out for my wife; she fears it will escape the car and enter the house in the night to murder her in cold mouse blood (kind of like how Mickey Mouse likes to sneak into Marvel Studios at night and rape Spider Man). The rain was still beating down when my wife demanded we stop so she can evade the evil mouse's advances. We soon came the the small gas station on our road and stopped under the cover. The wife leaped from the car and began to ramble on and on about the rodent and her hatred. At one point I think she slipped into tongues. Maybe the rat used its ESP to invade her mind. After a furious search, I found no sign of the mouse; at all.From The Bad Friday: Posted 5/14/2010
To my disdain, the car which that clever little rodent chose to inhabit broke down only days after his arrival. It just stopped. Well as you can imagine, upon hearing this news, my lovely, caring, compassionate and all knowing wife made her expert opinion be known. That little vermin must have been the reason for the car's sudden reluctance to start. I reassured her this was probably not the case. For a week the car was in the shop. The verdict? A blown fuse going into the starter, probably blown by some sort of short in the wiring. How ever did this short come about? The mechanic suggests that a mouse very well could have caused such damage.
So she drives off to work. I go home to revel in the glory of a day off. Later, I receive a text from the wife letting me know that the car smells of dead mouse. This news brightens the day further. At least it's dead; now I just have to solve that problem. Soon I sit down for some relaxing video games; peace. It's right then, that she calls me. We have just pissing-down-a-hair-clogged-drain bad cell phone service at our house. I cannot believe I was able to hear what she said. "Car won't start. I'm at Krodel park." I'm not even mad. For a moment I just stand there, bent in some funny angle striving for the optimum cell service of one bar. "Sure." That's the best I can manage before leaving to pick her up.From A Loss for Words: Posted 5/24/2010
I have off tomorrow what should I do? Well shit kids that's a rhetorical question. Tomorrow I have to take my wife's taint of a car to Huntington to the dealership to get worked on because the little POS still won't run. If the TV I bought last Christmas needed as much maintenance as the cars we own, I would not stand for it. Did you ever think of that? Break it down, most of the stuff we buy needs much less maintenance than our cars. Hell, I guarantee my wife and I use our TV more hours a day than our cars. I'm sorry I don't have to change the oil in my TV, or check the @$%#ing tire pressure! Car companies are you listening? no...
On a side note, the TV I am referring to in this post is, as of Winter 2012, also broken...From Holeless Pillow: Posted 5/26/2010
Oh, the suck I have endured. I bitch a lot about the wife's car, so I'll only say, it still sucks. Hard. We've spent money and time on it, we are frustrated. Things are out of hand. The house is a mess. Clothes, they aren't washed. We had to use the remainder of the Disney Princess paper plates from her birthday party to eat dinner. We have no food at the house; none. We DO have a giant tower of pizza boxes.From The Tire: Posted 9/29/2010
The truck I am using to drive while her car is being worked on? Its breaks went out on me today! THE BREAKS WENT OUT! You realize I was driving when this happened? WTF!!???!!? I could have seriously wrecked. I am not making this up.
It is in this vehicle of death; a car that begins seizures like shakes at 55 mph, I decided to leave the safety of home and set out upon the open road.It was shortly after this last post that the old red car stopped. One day it just said no more. For the past two years it has lingered in my yard. As much as I enjoy being a rural stereotype, it needed to go. So recently I made the calls required to have the vehicle taken away. Before this happy event could occur, I had to take one last tour through the haunted halls of the old mouse coffin. It must be purged of our personal items. Here is what I found:
I think most of you have probably figured out what's next. So, instead of boring you to death (I hope no one has died yet) the next portion of this tale will be over blown and exaggerated for thematic effect. I was just driving along, minding my own business when out of no where my front driver side tire explodes in a violent rage. Shrapnel is sent flying in every direction. I am sent swerving across the road. I hit the edge of the road and flip fifteen times down the highway before landing again. At this point I was still traveling at well over fifty miles an hour! The car careens left and right and only my nerves of steel and great strength are able the pull the car under control and bring it to a stop. For any one who is really worried about it, all that really happened was the tire when flat for no reason and I had to pull over.
A muffin pan.
Numerous boy band CDs.
A Coldplay CD.
A Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band CD.
A Credence Clearwater Revival CD.
Lynard Skynard's Greatest Hits.
A quick vac full of small pebbles?
Two years worth of newspapers.
A plastic Easter bucket.
A screw driver; flat head.
Trash, lots of trash.
A large mouse nest, hidden under the trunk where you keep the spare tire. And under that nest? The Mouse. Dead, of course. The now ancient burial mount of the mythical beast finally discovered. Could this evil talisman sitting parked outside our home for the last two years be the cause of all the car troubles? Let me remind you the trouble has not been limited to the red car alone:
From Rage Quit: Posted 2/19/2011
I quit. Cars that is, I quit them. What two face backstabber came up with that industry? “Here I’ll sell you this vehicle for a ton of money but I’ll see you again real soon when you starting having problems with it.” Awesome. I’m going to buy some horses. I’ll ride everywhere I need to go. If something isn’t in reasonable range of me and my horse, then I don’t really need to go there. But knowing my luck the horse would break a leg and I’d have to shoot the damned thing and make some glue, or dog food. Even then, at least it would be useful to me unlike cars which break down and become the eye sore of rural lower class America. I might as well scatter a few plastic flamingos and half naked children around the yard and throw a barbecue. I’ll buy some Bud Light and wear a cut off denim t-shirt with a Dale Jr. hat and cook up some road kill steaks; skunk is in season. Odin help us all.I purged the car of all this junk and burnt the mouse carcase and nest as sacrifice to please the angered car gods. Oh Ford, father of thine cars, forgive me of my sins. Cleanse me of this mousy stank. Accept this gift of mouse piss soaked newspaper, seat foam cushion and other unrecognizable items. Take the body of this deceased creature and leave me be!
Around about ten minutes from our destination, we hit a large bump in the road. I thought nothing of it and we went on for a minute or so, when I realized the bump caused us to flat. We later went back to discover the hole was actually a branch of the Grand Canyon; how did I not see it? So since July we've dealt with three flats now. Actually, my wife and I are now past three years of marriage heading to four and we are averaging two flat tires per year of marriage. It was also very dark outside. Before I got out of the car, my wife asked if I knew how to change a tire and I almost lost it. She later clarified that she meant if I knew how to change the tire on the new car. I shook my head and told her to make me a sandwich. Then I threw that damned donut on the new car and we rolled out to the Olive Garden. I mean, we were already there, may as well eat.
Remember the first Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie? (yes Michael Bay that is their FULL name!) Remember when they all sat around the fire and meditated and Splinter appeared to them and they knew he was alive and they will find him? I am at peace now. The soul of the mouse appeared to me and spoke comfort. My debt is paid, he goes now to a better place. Maybe a BMW or Lexus.