Steve's Car

Trying to delay mowing the lengthy grass, Steve leaned over the fence to talk to his redneck neighbor.

“Hey Larry, how’s it going.” Steve shouted. Anything to keep from doing his chores.

“Oh, great, Steve. I have to change the muffler on the old beast. Can you give me a hand?” Larry saw a chance to offload some of the dirty work.

Steve worked the wrench while the two of them lay under the old car. Idle chit chat broke the silence.

“You know, Larry, one of my hockey buddies had his car stolen.” Steve relayed a recent story from the locker room.

“Poor guy, too bad.” Larry feigned sympathy.

“No, he was glad. It was an old clunker that he was trying to sell, and couldn’t even get two hundred bucks for it. The cops called him up and said they found his car totaled on a side road. He didn’t even know it was gone. Stolen right off the lot where he left it to be sold. Insurance gave him fifteen hundred bucks. He even bought beer for the guys.”

“Boy, that was a stroke of luck.” Larry sounded more interested now.

“I wish something like that would happen to me. I would love to see my old Dodge stolen and burned. Insurance would pay me more than I could sell it for. Maybe a thousand on a claim.” Steve voiced his wishful thoughts.

Larry crawled out from under the car and called to Steve with an authoritative voice. “It’ll cost you two hundred. How’s this weekend sound?”

Steve stopped what he was doing under the car. “I have to mow my lawn.” He said, as he hurried back to his yard.

(284 words)