The breath of hell
I had to go out the other day.
Quite when it was, or where I was going is irrelevant. That fact was that I had to use the car.
I opened the gates and then, along with Sandy, hopped into the car and closed the car door behind me.
I suddenly felt very very ill. Judging by the look on her face, so did Sandy.
The Stink!! There was a powerful stench of something absolutely putrid and festering in that car, and it was strong enough to make the paint blister on the door frame. Unfortunately, I was in a hurry, so I didn’t have time to investigate, and just drove with all the windows open.
When I eventually go back home, I investigated. I knew I was looking for maybe a cabbage that was slowly liquefying, or maybe a ten week old rat corpse hidden under a layer of green mould. It was that kind of stink.
I found nothing.
Some days later, I had to bring herself somewhere. I had forgotten about the odour from hell, so as I opened the gates, I was a little startled to hear the scream from inside the car. I had to drag her now unconscious body back into the house and revive her with a couple of swift belts across the face. Actually, I think she was coming around anyway, but I threw in the couple of slaps, just to be on the safe side.
“What the fuck was that?” says she.
I have to apologise for her language here, She has a bit of a potty mouth sometimes.
“I don’t know” says I.
“Get the fuck out there and find out.”
I ignored her attitude, but went out anyway, as I was still a little curious.
I ripped the car apart. I took out the seats and everything.
Not a squat of anything that could be causing such an appalling assault on the nostrils.
I had to use the car again this morning. I gingerly got in and took a shallow sniff.
All I could smell was the rather pleasant aroma of an over full ashtray and overlaid with a faint hint of oil. The stench had disappeared. I breathed deeply and went about my business.
Herself quizzed me when I got back. She wanted to know if the stench from hell was any worse. I told her it was gone, but she didn’t believe me. She went out and investigated for herself.
She came back. “It must have been your socks” she said.
I was not amused.
The doctors say they expect her to make a full recovery.
I had a similar problem a few years ago (not with herself you understand?) and eventually found a bird that had been mangled in the engine compartment. Have a look..
If there was a bird or a cyclist or something there, it seems to have gone now. It shall robably forever remain a mystery.
Does anyone know of a missing cyclist in this area?
Or maybe a missing FFer minister !!
Or Mary Harney? That would at least mean a new suspension!
I had an old banger Ford Anglia back in the early 70s and I bought several pints of milk from the local shop, then on the way back home had to make an emergency stop, the bottles flew forward off the back seat and spilt their contents onto the floor, I moped up the mess with a sponge when I got back and forgot about it for a few days. Then on a hot and sunny day I opened the door of the ole anglebox and nearly fell over backwards. The following week it went to the scrap yard.
.-= Lorenzo´s last brainfart .. Hurricane Gordon heading directly for Haiti =-.
Welcome Lorenzo! There is nothing worse than old milk spilt in a car. Well, actually there is, but as I said, I never found the cause. Scrapping is a bit drastic though? Surely if you just left all the doors open for six months? Thanks for the links, incidentally! 😉
Drove over a plastic bag in the street and it attached itself to the catalytic converter, horrible burning smell for weeks.
Never fart in a Volkswagon Beetle.
I’m getting worried about you my friend. You appear to be forgetting who/what you ran down in the near past that pieces/chunks might still be lodged betwixt sections of the undercarriage/exhaust/tranny/engine and rotting away?
Lord, what a sentence!
.-= Kirk M´s last brainfart .. Never buy a laptop from a hardware store. =-.