ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
You think you’ve ever had the shit shocked out of you?
Because one Betoota Heights father said you haven’t had the shit shocked out of you until you’ve been flogging the guts out of a Holden Captiva overtaking two road trains at a time, pushing the lazy pig all the way up to 7400 rpm, only to have the timing chain explode within the engine.
“It will immediately seize when then happens and throw a whole manner of shit out on the road. Oil, nuts, bolts, fluid, fucking shrapnel. You name it. The wheels lock up and the gearbox just doesn’t know what to do and it lets out this primeval scream and moan as the teeth are shorn off the cogs. It’s absolute bedlam,” he said.
“I know this because it happened to me.”
Sitting opposite our reporter at the Glengarry Hotel in the Old City District, Glenn Flaxxon explained the day he’s had.
“Mate, why did I ever buy a fucking Holden Captiva,” he said.
“It’s been nothing but grief.”
Our reporter asked him to expand on that.
“Well, mate,” he said before taking two concerningly large sips from his schooner glass.
“I’ve been driving the fucking thing around with the engine light on for about two years. My mechanic said, ‘Get rid of this fucking thing before you have to torch the cunt,’ and I thought he was probably right but I’m pretty fucking broke at the moment, the missus is off work with our youngest and it’d be all just such a fuck to work out so I thought, ‘Fuck you, Jack, I’m going to have to drive this fucking thing around until I have to torch the cunt,’ and now the time has come and gone where I can torch the cunt,”
“It’s up there on the Diamantina Development Road, some towie helped me get it off the road. Oh mate, the fucking cheek on that cunt, let me tell you. He was all like, ‘Mate, I think this thing’s fucked, hey?’ and I was all like you fucking think cunt? I’ve just thrown a timing chain at 179kph with the fucking thing up on the redline howling like it’s got Mark Webber behind the wheel! It’s fucked, mate. It’s fucking fucked and he was all like, ‘Settle down mate, you should just torch the cunt,’ and I flipped out again like telling these fucking people that I’m not about to commit low-level insurance fraud when I’ve got a family to feed. I can’t go to gaol, my missus would throw her own timing chain.”
Our reporter nodded.
“The mechanic, at least, wasn’t so patronising to me. He reckons he can help me cut the thing up into parts and we might be able to get a grand or so from it. That should get me into an ex-taxi BF wagon. Those things are only getting worn in at 600. Fuck me, this year started off with a bang! [laughs]
“What a day, mate. You having another Carlton?”
More to come.