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Once upon a time, there was a wedding in the family, and everyone was excited. "We should celebrate with BBQ!" became the general consensus.
So, I awoke the morning of with my tail nice and bushy to go pick up the anticipated meal. I made sure to rescue my brother from his castle so he could join me in my quest.
"Brother!" said I. "Behold, we seek for nourishment in the form of seasoned animal flesh!"
"Why, that sounds most marvelous, brother!" he said. "Let us ride at once!"
"Ride, good sir?" I inquired. "My steed is mechanical!"
"Then I shall ride, and you shall drive!"
"Excellent!"
And so we did. Upon arriving at the fair kingdom of My Heirs (though I admit they were someone else's), we met a man who most graciously offered us the long-sought-after meal.
"Yeah, ok," said the man. "Here's your order. That'll be with cash, or card?"
"Hark, brother!" said I. "What peculiar language this vagrant espouses!"
"Why, he must be from the North!" said my brother. "Denmark, perhaps?"
The man gave us many strange looks, likely because he had never before been in the presence of such wondrous grace and charm as we brothers exhibited. In all honesty, the poor sap likely never would again.
After the BBQ was loaded into my mechanical stallion, off we brothers continued, eventually arriving at the kingdom wherein the wedding was to be performed. To my great astonishment, when I went to retrieve the food, I learned the back seat of my steed had attempted to eat the BBQ, leaving its sauce all over its lips.
Excellent! I thought to myself. This means that my steed now has a robust flavor and, dare I say, scent! I'm sure all the ladies will appreciate this fortunate turn of events!
The jester of the land, however, had different ideas.
"Let's clean it up," my father said.
Aw.
Arriving at the main point, BBQ sauce had oozed all over the cracks in my back seat, requiring us to remove both pieces before spraying it with a hose. The seat itself was easy to remove, but the backrest proved incredibly difficult. We could see it was connected to the rest of the car with a series of hooks, but we could not lift the hooks over the other for the life of us.
Finally, we came upon the only solution readily apparent to us. Climbing into the trunk, we shoved!
And shoved!
And shoved!
And got a hook off!
And shoved!
And shoved!
And shoved!
And got the last hook off!
And realized the seat was still attached at the bottom.
But how? We couldn't figure it out. Finally, after much deliberation, we realized that the bolts connecting the seat belts to the car were the same bolts keeping the backrest down.
Facepalm.
Though the car was eventually healed, we discovered our shoving in the face of no other apparent solution had warped one of the hooks, specifically the right one, leaving a massive gap leading down into the trunk.
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| It's hard to see, but the red circle marks the aforementioned gap, the blue circle marks the metal upon which the seat usually ... uh, sits, and the green circle is the seat ... uh, sitting on top of my car. |
I suppose you'll be able to connect the analogy with the scripture at the top of the post?
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