The Gruesome Stain

On Tuesday I was in Halifax, celebrating the cash I’d won at the open mic night.

On Wednesday I pulled over to take a leak and noticed my car had decided to take a leak as well. I was standing at the edge of the highway just past Norton, NB. I watched as that cash prize flowed straight out the bottom of my car in the form of a fountain of green coolant.

My Cobramobile is an immortal chariot that descended from the height of Mt. Olympus some ten thousand years ago. This steed cannot be killed but he can be wounded and when you stab him, he bleeds money.

I roared up the Mackay Highway and came to rest at the holy shrine known as Grove Auto Service. I was hoping the problem would be something simple like a loose hose. But the water pump was toast. Plus the belt had gotten chewed up in the process so it had to be replaced as well.

Easy come, easy go is what the tombstone will say and at my funeral a dozen widows will cry antifreeze tears.