Spiders From Mars

Last week, when I drove The Amazing Bob into his doc’s (the Black Plague having made that wholly unwelcome reappearance and all), Horace the Silver Beetle made some wickedly distressing vibrations (I imagine there were equally disturbing sounds to go with it).

This, while I was maneuvering around one of Mass General’s compact, tight, little parking garages with a line of ten other car-stowing hopefuls behind me.

Horace had some seriously ominous Auto Gastric Disturbance goin’ on. It felt as though he was about to upchuck something vital -- like the engine or something. 

We made it home without incident (YEA!) but the scary goldenrod colored Check the Engine (it’s about to fall out!) light was screaming at me.
Joy. Horace is over ten years old so I really should expect regular repair issues, Bug Spa Days, to arise.

sigh

Jen dropped the car off at the VW magician’s and did all the phone discussions with them. Yesterday, late afternoon, she texted me with the news that Horace was all better and ready to come home.

Here is our exchange.

Jen: Mechanic rang. Horace est fini.

Me: What was wrong and how much?

Jen: $515 -- something with the air filter. They reprogrammed it and all is well now.

Me: $515!!! Who did they have doing the programming? Did they raise Steve Jobs from the dead? I guess necromancers charge a pretty penny, huh?

Jen: Well, they also said that spiders had built a big ass webby thing in the engine and that was tripping some other codes. They cleaned all that out.

Me: Spiders? Christ almighty. My car’s gone all Giant Spider Invasion or Earth versus The Spider now?

What’s next? They gonna tell us they’ve discovered The Green Slime hangin’ in the crankcase? Water Sprites doing the backstroke in the coolant?

Jen’s response? A calm, reassuring ‘Yes Dear’ along with a solid assurance that the mechanics had also staked the vampire bunnies who’d been living in the trunk.


Well, thank Kali for that!
Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars -- Starman