My Buddy's Car

Wesley & Zelda

    My friend Wes and I were riding home in my Camaro. He had been through a lot that day. Although he perked up suddenly at the sight of a 1972 Fairlady that was parked on the side of the street. It was beat to hell and back, but for some reason he had to have it. I kept driving because he didn't need that grief from his folks. He did something I hate for people to do in my Camaro. He jerked the wheel to the right, and the car slid around. It almost went off the road. I then proceeded to punch him in the jaw for almost crashing my ZL1 Camaro. He looked at me, shocked and hurt that I punched him. I gave him a tongue lashing for his stupidity, and then he asked to look at the stupid Fairlady Z he almost crashed my car over. I took him begrudgingly over to where the car sat rotting away to nothing. He sprang from my car and bolted to the rotten hulk. He walked around the car and opened the door. A putrid odor came billowing out of it and a dead rat fell from the headliner. I told him what ever price the owner told him for it was to high, but he had stopped listening to me. He wanted that car and he was going to have it. At this point, I knew I had to keep the owner from selling him this car. I had a bad feeling about this car. I smelled a rat... and it wasn't the dead one.