"Okay!" I said optimistically, "it's been a couple days, the arm
muscles are still sore, but, I think I'm ready for another go at the
stuck oil filter."
I put the filter wrench thingie back on and gave a tentative tug or
two, clenched my teeth and gave a mighty heave!
Nothing.
Ok, now you're making me very angry! I had, in reserve, brought the
largest screwdriver I own. In fact, two of them!
The List said, "Drive a stake through its miserable oily heart and
you will not fail!" The filter sat there placidly, even arrogantly,
whilst I made preparations.
First, an eight-sided figure circumscribed around the vehicle. "No
extra demonic help for you now!" I cried. No reaction. I lit eight
trouble lights and hung them around the engine bay. "Suffer! And
prepare to depart this existence!" I threatened. Still, no reaction
from the accursed filter.
Carefully I placed the Tool of Doom against the cold, unfeeling,
exterior, and, with a Thor-like blow, pierced the evil canister
through and through! "Arghh! Take that and die!" Nary a whimper from
the Filter from Hell. Bracing myself firmly against the wing, both
hands on the Stake, I pushed with all the force of Light!
"YESSSS!!! It's moving!" I shouted triumphantly.
But wait, what's this? An evil chuckle amongst the final gurgles was
heard . . . . the canister's epidermal layer tore but STILL DID NOT
TURN!!! "NNOOOOOO!!!" I ripped the innards from the now ruptured
filter. In an instant, all of the lights went out!
When sanity returned, and one lonely flashlight surveyed the
resultant mayhem, the outside shell of the filter still remains
firmly adhered to the engine. I gently lowered the bonnet, and,
wiping my tools, quietly slipped away into the night.
HELP!
Gary
74 MGB (with the Filter from Hell)
|