Music poured out of the El Camino's vintage speakers as he finished the rough polish on his car's latest addition. Music quite foreign to El Sasquatcho's experience. He paused at the end of his efforts before the installation took place to stare incredulously into the vehicle, as if he could [i]see[/i] the music that vexed him so. After a few seconds, he shrugged and retrieved a few tools. 

"...strange, but at least it has the rhythm... Ok, my friends and teammates, here the deal. I have marked off the places where we are to make the attaching. Just line up the holes and, eh... attach. El Sasquatcho will need at least one of you to hold it in place (it is somewhat heavy), and at least one of you to quickly bolt in the, eh... well, the bolts."

The masked luchador walked around to the front of the vehicle, and in a cunning display of weight-bearing rebellion against gravity, lifted the front of the El Camino onto his shoulders, and slid it up to provide his heroic associates clear access to the front end and frame. The bullbars, vaguely reminiscent of a Chevy cow catcher attachment, lay matte black in the afternoon sun, waiting to be joined to the glory that is the 1970 Chevrolet El Camino SS LS6 Turbo, manual transmission, fully optioned street muscle utility vehicle. 

"This is slightly more difficult than it looks. If you could make with the hurrying, El Sasquatcho would be most grateful."