ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
A young man looking to buying a used automobile has today been put under a spell by a completely fucked 2009 Fiat 500, seemingly unaware that the marque is actually an acronym.
Despite being widely known in motoring circles, Italian carmaker FIAT stands for ‘Fix it again, Tony’ – something which many purchasers of FIATs often fail to learn until it’s too late.
Luckily for Banjo Clemente, a directionless 25-year-old who suffers from the crippling guilt of having intelligent parents that care about him, he opted to take his old man with him to go look at cars.
Banjo’s father, Mandolin, has more of an idea about motor cars than his idiot son, he says. The fact that he’s dragged him out to Betoota Heights at 10am on a Tuesday to look at a clapped out Fiat 500 is a testament to that.
They arrived at the address, a house younger than the Clemente family’s pug bitch, to find the car waiting for them on the driveway.
Mandolin said he took a look at the brakes first to see if it’d be moved recently. It had. He then palmed the bonnet, it was warm.
“These are not good signs,” said Mandolin.
They pushed the buzzer and out came the current owner. A portly young gent in a Kevin 07 t-shirt, skin tight Nudie jeans and bare feet came out to greet them. His name was Peter.
“Oh, I just had to run up to the shops,” said the big fella. Mandolin’s eyes tightened.
He got down on his guts and looked under the car while Banjo and Peter looked confused.
“There’s oil all over the cement. It must have a bad leak somewhere.”
Peter laughed nervously.
“Can we have a look under the bonnet?”
Peter popped the bonnet and Mandolin lifted it up. He frowned. The oil dipstick wasn’t pushed all the way in, so he yanked it out and gave it a sniff.
“Christ, this oil is darker than Hitler’s heart, mate. When was it last changed?”
Again Peter laughed then trailed off with an inappropriate giggle.
“Can you turn it over for me?”
The engine came to life and it only took a few seconds for Mandolin to confirm his suspicions.
“You hear that?” he asked the two boys.
“That rattle? That’s the timing belt, I bet it’s missing a bunch of teeth. This thing’s fucked. Wants driving into a flooded causeway, it does. The tyres, too. Look at the stamp on these front ones. 2016 they were made. They’re fucken near 10 years old. You’d be safer on a Lime Bike than this cunnavathing, Banj!”
Banjo looked stunned.
“Yeah but look how cool it looks Dad.”
More to come.
