A quarter of an hour later, Alex stood with his hands on his hips, glaring. "Just what the hell is this?" he thundered.
Smiling sweetly, Paul answered, "This is my car. I told you I'd pull it around, didn't I?"
"This isn't a car, this is a rusted-out piece of shit."
"Yeah, you're probably right. However, it's my piece of shit, and if we're going to make our reservation, you'd best get in it."Find it here at Torquere Press: