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Squished in a Clown Car

After the usual Saturday breakfast meeting at the club house Animal,Doug and I headed to Cousin Vinny's fortress in Medford.
Doug took one look at the interior in the Mini and mumbled something about going to Vinny's in his own truck to save the embarrassment for riding in an import.
I think it has something to do with bylaws, insurance, and black jackets.
A wise decision, as I later realized.
After 2 hours of fiddling with Vinny's VERY high boy and discovering more goodies in his secret stash of parts we determined our welcome was worn out here.
He patted us down on the way out.
Damn, I really needed that 8 track Delco radio.
Into the clown car we piled and off we headed to North Billerica.
My first mistake was volunteering for the back seat. After all, I am the smallest.
Thru the maze of the roll cage I traveled, banging my head twice, and then getting my clothing attached to loose door weather strips.
Animal was not happy as I unraveled his newly applied weather strips like a kitten with a new ball of yarn.
As we motored up the highway, the rear cabin starts filling up with smoke.
"Hey guys" I shout. "Do you smell exhaust?"
"No, were fine, stop your complaining and cowboy up for the ride wimp!"
Animal's 4 inch tail pipe exits directly beneath a trunk opening that has no gaskets, and spews a strange blend of fuel only available at better aviation laboratories.
Instead of the rear speakers playing music they belch out weird exhaust smoke.
Pass the Tylenol please!
Next stop, the Drafty Door Garage of North Billerica.
As usual Roy was very hard at work wiring, grinding, sanding, painting, fabricating, measuring, adjusting and generally being in charge of the sinister, hammered 5 widow coupe.
No sign of Gamache.
Roy sent him off on another coffee run.
Roy tells us that every time he feels he want to re do something on the car that is not done to his satisfaction, he sends poor Bib out on another errand.
Saves a lot of bickering that way.
It was only 11:00 and it was Bib's 4th coffee run of the morning.
After Bib returned and proudly showed of his newly installed trunk handle Roy sent him out for more coffee.
What's up with all these coffee runs?
After getting our asses thrown out of there and having my film confiscated we were told to never return
Again, another frisking and I had to give up the whore red banjo steering wheel.
Danny's house was next on our hit list and only about 10 minutes away.
Approaching from the north o n the left side of the Middlesex Turnpike our eyes suddenly see a primer fenderless Packard funeral car beside a chopped metalflake Lincoln Continental beside a house resembling Snow White's castle overlooking Nutting's Lake.
Just this side of the moat lay 2 chopped early Mopars guarded by a flock of killer tentacle animals.
This is not your father's Oldsmobile here!
As we ducked around the front we peeked thru the garage windows and spotted the much rumored gull wing pick up truck in the assembly laboratory.
Yep, this must be Danny's house.
The lights are on, but nobody's home here.
At least we weren't put thru a full body cavity search at this version of the Monster Garage.
We soon left, disappointed that we missed Danny ,but satisfied that the Dominators have a bunch of great talent out there to churn out some fine new material this coming winter season.
Next garage tour is 2 Saturdays from now.
Who next wants to volunteer to have their fine work torn to shreds by the talent search committee?