From late last night and again this morning we debated what to do about the wounded Jeep Patriot we rented for the Rental Car Rally race from San Francisco to Yuma, Arizona. As I said Saturday, we limped into the finish line after a couple of engine lights popped on during the vast wilderness 40 miles or so from the California border to Yuma.
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We’d been on the road for 30-some hours and we were just 30 miles from the finish line in Yuma, Arizona when it happened.
Two engine lights popped on and our Jeep Patriot rental hurtling east down the 8 Freeway bucked and started to decelerate. Greer was lying down in the backseat and Mona was riding shotgun. What should I do? Pull over and call the rental car agency for roadside service? Or keep going? What if I pull over and we can’t get phone service — a distinct possibility near the border of California and Arizona, a real dead zone for miles?
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Int. Courtroom – Day
A bailiff, looking suspiciously like the Cocoa Puffs bird, stands at attention.
BAILIFF
Here ye, here ye. The cartoon court calls the defendant Cap’n Crunch to the stand.
Cap’n Crunch nervously walks up to where he will testify. The bailiff holds out a Bible to him.
BAILIFF
Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?
CAP’N CRUNCH
(gulps)
I do!
The captain takes his seat and a lawyer, looking an awful lot like Count Chocula, approaches.
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