My old Jalopy

“Ok, what have we got here-ere… oh…”
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Uh, I don’t think I’m gonna be of much help here.”
“But you said you ‘fixed a million old cars’- your words, not mine.”
“I said old, not antediluvian!”
“It’s not that old- it’s an 87! It’s not like I’m asking you to fix a 50’s antique!”
“That’d be easier- people collect those things, they at least have stores that carry the parts. But this? What the hell kind of make is this?”
“Uh, let me see- it says “AMC’. Yeah, AMC.”
“Ha! That company doesn’t even exist anymore! I’d have to look through a junk yard to find parts for this thing. You know why? Because they’re junk!”
“Ok… so what do I do?”
“I’d say put it in the junk yard with its friends”
“Uh, yeah- that’d be great if I could get a new car to replace it. But I’m poor. Need money to buy new car.”
“How are you even driving this still?”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Not that bad? Have you ever heard the term ‘moving death trap’?”
“Quite a lot, actually.”
“I’m not surprised driving a hunk of crap like this. I’m surprised the thing hasn’t spontaneously combusted!”
“Look, as much as I appreciate you endlessly ridiculing my car I’m in need of actual, you know- help. If I can’t get the parts then what am I supposed to do? I don’t have money for a new car.”
“Hmmm… you could enter it in a demolition derby- might win money. Then you could get something that runs!”
“Uh- huh. I’m sure that worked well in whatever 80’s tv show you’re referring to but this is the real world, you know? Non- syndicated? I have a job, what do you want me to do? Sell a kidney? Rob a bank?”
“Well how did you get this car?”
“My dad gave it to me.”
“Oy. Your dad doesn’t like you very much, does he?”