a Vicar, his car and some dogs
Mr Bardwell was one of the small puny miserable fucked up looking vicars that you see, you know the ones whos chins rest on their chest. Unfortunately he stank to high fucking heaven. He must be the first man to get to heaven first with out being dead. I used to work in a garage and he would come in. He had an estate car with 4 or 5 small dogs running havoc in it. We jacked it up once and dog piss run out of the lower end. We used to make this one guy work on it as he lost his sense of smell in a bike accident. I made the mistake of admitting to him i knew about car radios. "Can you look at mine"
I lasted about 8 seconds in the shit pit that was his car. I ripped the old sterio out (remember the ones with the huge flat pegs you pushed to get the station?). I ripped it out, gave it to him and said theres your problem, its fucked, and walked off.
Any mechanic will know that tools are expensive. We used to chuck the new lads snapons in the car!
We got fed up of the stinky fucker. He came in one day complaining of handbrake blah blah, so we said it would cost about £150 to fix. He rightly said it sounded to expensive, can we recomment somewhere else? Sure! 10 mins later the mechanic from accross the road comes roaring in swearing about this manky vicar being recommended to him.

Ahh, we laughed.

I was at a party some years later and was recanting this smelly tale, when the bloke i was talking to said "that was my uncle" after an embarrising pause, he added "he was a stinky cunt tho!"
(i AM that masked man Book him Tonto, Fri 23 Mar 2007, 21:59, Reply)