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Stupid cars. Why did they have to be such a bother to fix? Today Ellie had the opportunity to drive a classic car, which just so happened to be a 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle SS. The car geek didn’t know what she was expecting with a car that was over seventy years old, but there she was on the side of the street trying everything she could to get it running.

It was running just fine when Ellie had met up with Brianna for breakfast, but afterwards was an entirely different story. As soon as she left the parking lot, the car started having its obligatory problems. Obviously, there were going to be problems with a car nearly as old as her grandfather, but none of this magnitude was expected, but yet there it was.

Stopping at a stoplight, the big ol’ V8 was rumbling the car. That was also normal, but what wasn’t normal was the smell that started to come out of the car shortly afterwards. Uh oh. That wasn’t a good smell either. The light turned green and Ellie pushed the clutch in to shift into the first gear to get herself moving. Upon moving the gear lever, she could feel the gears crunching and grinding. Was the clutch also gone?

Once the car geek pushed on the gas pedal, a plume of white-ish smoke had come from the exhaust. Already, Ellie could tell what was happening to the car. She had been lead to believe that the car was in tip-top shape. She had been deceived! Whoever was responsible for maintaining this car had done an incredibly poor job. Ellie was going to have to give them an earful about the principles of basic car maintenance. The car was shitting itself in front of her eyes! She had to pull over immediately. People already weren’t happy that the car was spitting some flames, even though it was doing a better job at doing so than Yung Steve.

Being careful, Ellie pulled over to the side. This [i]was[/i] Los Angeles, so it was more treacherous than it had any right to be. Once she got settled to the side, Ellie shut the car off and opened the hood to see what in Sam Hill had caused the car to start behaving this way. Opening the hood, the engine bay was exposed and so was another cloud of ominous smoke. Coughing and waving it from her face, Ellie soon was met with a rather unsightly image. 

[color=b0e0e6][b]”You’ve got to be fucking kidding…”[/b][/color]

There was oil all over the place, which explained the other funky smell that Ellie had smelled earlier. It was just burning oil. Taking a closer look, it was clear that Ellie couldn’t identify the issue without compromising her safety. There was so much oil that the most vital parts were covered in it. Sighing, she put her hands on her hips. There wasn’t much she could do right now.

Ellie had too much pride in the world to even consider calling for a tow truck. The last thing she needed was some fuck lecturing her on how women shouldn’t be driving cars like these, even though she more than likely knew more than him. She was tutting around, pacing to think up of solutions she could fashion by herself with the materials that she had.

The hapa couldn’t think of a solution. Nobody could. No tools that could fit in the trunk of the Chevelle could fix what Ellie was dealing with. There was the oil all over the place, what smelled like a burnt head gasket, as well as the clutch that had decided to go full Kurt Cobain at the worst of times. Ellie was frustrated, not so much at the original owner for being so shit at maintenance, but at herself for being so stupid with it and not making sure the car was okay. 

But then again, maybe she just had some shitty luck today. What else could happen today? Maybe someone she didn’t want to see would pull up. That would’ve just been the icing on top of  the shit sundae that was her day. It started fairly okay, but from there on it’d gone downhill extremely quickly. 

Suddenly, a certain world famous rapper had pulled up in his little convertible. [color=ed1c24][b]”Ay… aren’t you that one girl from the diner?”[/b][/color]

[color=b0e0e6][b]”Yeah… aren’t you that one rapper?”[/b][/color]

[color=ed1c24][b]”Yep.”[/b][/color]

[color=b0e0e6][b]”Oh. Hey, can you give me a lift to the nearest auto parts store? I’ll pay you for gas money, I promise!”[/b][/color]

Yung Steve thought for a second, well at least it looked like he did. He was looking up in the corner like he was JD from Scrubs.

[color=ed1c24][b]”Nah. You dissed my shit earlier, now imma diss you. Peace!”[/b][/color]

With that, Yung Steve floored it and squeezed out all 134 horsepower of his Mini Cooper, peeling off and leaving Ellie in his dust. Yung Steve didn't fuck with people who dissed him. As fucked up as it was, ignoring the haters was how you persevered in this business. No time for the haters!

So much for having a good rapport with people. Guess Ellie was going to have to call a tow truck after all. She was loathing the inevitable lecture she was going to be getting from the tow truck man.