Paulina Jo will suffer. I swear by the moon and the stars, he and/or she will suffer.
I don’t know what they look like, but people around these parts whisper their name in hushed, hissed tones, like they’re saying the name of a demon. It’s a terrible situation, the entire suburb living in constant fear of this noisy menace, roaming around the town, windows down, causing many frowns, happy as a clown. As a clown, I say!
If only the mechanic services in Ringwood weren’t quite as good as they are. They keep doing their jobs, and doing their jobs well, fixing the vehicle of this wastrel. This foul…wasteful…thing. Great mechanics though, for real. I once had a serious problem with my car battery, and it was blinking on and off and I just couldn’t figure out why. Those car experts fixed me up in no time and it didn’t even cost very much; I’m happy paying for someone’s time, of course, and so friendly, so helpful…
So yes, anyway, cutting the brakes didn’t work. I should’ve known that wouldn’t work like it does in the movies, because in the movies, the effect always kicks in when the person is driving down a huge hill. In real life, it’s way more likely that you’ll try to stop at a traffic light and just gently drift into the back of the person in front of you, or into a fence as you veer off the road. Mild injuries, a dented bumper and some annoying hassle as you deal with the insurance information, but that’s about it.
The mustard gas also proved ineffective. Cursed car services, so convenient, fitting around our schedules and getting the job done the first time! So frustratingly convenient! That’s the power of the vehicle inspections, Ringwood style. Fixing cars and finding deadly gas.
I will destroy you, Paulina Jo! It has been prophesied. It is probably written in the stars. The Ex-Club 77 music shall be silenced!