If Cars Could Talk
Chapter 1: Life at the Dealership
Vanne Boss (a.k.a VB) had always been a high-strung, energetic, and noisy young vehicle, but he never would've guessed that it was to the extent where his owner of two years would give up on him. But, back to the dealership it was on that cold February night. From his parking lot at the Ford dealership, miles away from where him and his owner used to live in Tampa, Florida, VB watched his owner drive away with a brand new 2013 Ford E-250 van.
"He's just taking that 250 out for a test drive," VB told an old, 2004 Ford Explorer parked next to him.
"You only wish," replied the Explorer. "I had that same thought when my owner took me here, young fellow. But I've been sitting behind the dealership in this same parking lot for almost two years now. My owners gave up on me, too."
"B-but why?" VB asked, stammering. "Why replace a perfectly good 2011 Ford E-350 like me with an E-250?"
"I've been there, young van," said the Explorer. "But I was replaced with the worst of all- a Chevrolet Traverse."
VB gasped. Fords and Chevys- their rivalry went far back. For a Ford to be replaced with a Chevy under any circumstance was just plain dumb.
"Things often happen without reason," the Explorer said. "I never understood either when I was your age. Trust me, I've seen many cars come and go. But, nobody seems to want me. The workers sometimes talk about sending every vehicle from the oldest they have to the 2011s straight to the auction."
"I don't wanna go to auction!" VB wailed.
"Shush up, young van. Somebody will probably pick you. And, you better hope they do while you're still young. We should both get some rest now."
VB could not rest. Despite what the Explorer told him, he decided his theory was better: His owner was simply trying out the new van and would be back for him in the morning. After that, he finally fell asleep.
At opening time the next morning, one of the workers came to him with his keys. What was somebody who wasn't his owner doing with his keys? Was the Explorer right? Had he been sold? Just as he was about to ask, he saw that the Ford Explorer was gone! And so were all the other cars that had been there the night before!
"NOOO!" he yelled.
"Shut up!" snapped the worker, hitting the unlock button on VB's keys.
"B-but the Explorer and the other cars, where did they-"
"Shut up, van!" he yelled again. "You know, we don't mind sending a trashy van like you to the scrapyard."
VB immediately kept silent. Most of the other cars had probably gone out to the auction, and that was bad enough, but he would rather be at the auction than a scrapyard.
The worker opened every door on VB, removing any paper or garbage that his old owner had left behind. He was soon joined by two more men, who vacuumed every crumb out of VB.
"Can you guys be done now?" urged VB. "I wanna get a chance to actually talk to some vans around here."
"No, we cannot be done!" barked a worker. "Your owner must have mistaken you for a dumpster. I'm not surprised. You new Ford vans look uglier than the 2002s!"
"BE QUIET!" yelled VB.
"I'm guessing somebody wants to go to the scrapyard," a worker taunted, once again leaving the obnoxious van silent.
Once the workers were done vacuuming VB, they pressed the button near the driver's seat that popped his hood. They tried to get it open, but it was stuck.
"It seems that the cord for the hood is loose," said a man.
"I can see that," another replied. "We'll just have to pry the hood open."
"NO!" yelled VB.
"No what?" a worker asked.
"DON'T PRY OPEN MY HOOD!"
"Scrapyard," he threatened, leaving VB quiet.
Once the men were done looking at VB, they confirmed that he was in proper driving condition.
"The only issue is the hood and it isn't a challenging problem. Or something we need to worry about," said one of the men.
"Yeah, plus three of the tires were replaced, which I guess is a good thing," another man said. Then, they left VB alone.
"That's right, poop-faces, leave," VB muttered, glad the men hadn't heard his insult.
"Do you know what trouble you should be in, van?" asked a sporty-looking, dark blue 2012 Hyundai Elantra parked near him. "The workers are right. You are a trash-pit of a van. In fact, all vans are inferior vehicles. Unless they're minivans."
"Are you kidding me?" shouted VB. "Minivans are poop! They aren't real vans!"
"Watch your big mouth, Ford," she said. "So, what's your name? I'm Eloise."
"VB!" he yelled, still upset with the small sedan.
"VB? How is that a name? Oh, never mind. So, lemme guess- you're moody because you're going out to the auction with the others?"
"I'm not moody!" he snapped. "The only word to describe how I feel right now is one I shouldn't say in front of somebody younger than me."
"Okay, so, to put it lightly, you're ticked. But why? The auction's not so bad."
"I'm mad because my owner sold me. For no reason!"
VB then caught sight of a worker walking towards him with his keys.
"Oh, no," he said. "Do you think I'm off to the auction?"
"Maybe," Eloise replied. "But they're probably just taking you up front."
The man unlocked VB's door, hopped inside, and started up his engine.
"Don't take me to the scrapyard!" VB shouted.
"Chill, van," he said. "You're just going up front."
"Does that mean I get to run over other cars maybe?" VB asked.
"No, van. I've no idea what you're talking about. No wonder your owner sold you."
Time went by fast. Soon, a whole month had passed, and March warmed things up a bit. VB had grown used to boring life at the dealership. He watched cars come and go, just as the Explorer had said. In a very short time, somebody traded in their old 2007 Ford Focus for Eloise, the Hyundai Elantra. VB could only sit in the parking lot, wishing some people would hurry up and buy him.