1962 Austin Cooper
"The gentleman removed the fallen debris from the Bonnet of Mr Green and with the help of a fellow working in the garage, pushed the faded green car towards the sunlight. It seemed that the fellow from the garage may have had just one too many pints for lunch that day and quickly moved into the dark corner of the garage where he started making horrible noises. The aged man positioned a lorry in the front of the little car and proceeded to attach a rope to the underside of Mr Green. The wind whistling around the half open windows gave Mr Green the sensation of once again speeding down the back roads in the country air. After what seemed like a short jaunt, the lorry came to a stop in front of an old Farm house with a pleasant barn to the south and a kindly looking lady standing in the front stoop. She waved at the aged fellow and said something to him in a heavy accent. Mr Green was once again being pushed into the recesses of a barn, his fear of rusting away to becoming a resting place for barn vermin and pigeons looking for a comfy place to hide from the winter chill.
Days passed and Mr Green was becoming more and more worried about his fate at the hands of this aging man that he felt an attraction for. Then it happened. Mr Green was sure that it was a Saturday when the barn door opened and the familiar silhouette of the aged man stood in the sunlight. A rattle of metal soon became a rattle of chains being positioned over his bonnet. The man took Mr Greens bonnet off and positioned the chains above his opened body. This was it he felt himself saying, I am about to become scrape metal. His sense of reality seemed to blur away at the sound of hammers and other tools beating at his internal parts, then he felt it, the tug, the sound of chains, the breaking away of gaskets….the day became dark.
For sometime, the darkness remained, then, a smooth touch, a rattling of more chains, a clunk, a tightening of bolts, what was that? New fresh oil? Mr Green opened his eyes to see his man positioning his motor back into his body. It was a short amount of time when he felt the spark light up his spark plugs and the petrol coursing through his lines once again. The man slipped into the seat, but it felt different, much tighter, much looser, much much more. The man eased out on Mr Greens clutch and he moved forward under his own power. Into the sunlight! The gravel beneath his tyres jumped when the motor sprinted forward, hey this is great! The man pushed the little motor to the limit as they ran down the road, chickens straining their wings to jump to safety, the cow near the barn raising it’s head to see the direction of the furor.
Mr Green was alive, as he ran past a large plate glass window in the florist shop in town, he realized that he was wearing a new coat! The coat had something written on it….654?
654! Those are racing numbers!
Now Mr Green was on his way….soon he was delivered to a small town in Alabama, a fellow with long hair and an understanding of him smiled as he was unloaded…..time to shine"