ORDEAL BY BUS
WOW: sniff. It's got four wheels and an engine, but it's not Baby ...
Disclaimer: I don't own him
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Dean hated riding the bus on the rare occasions that Baby was off the road. He hated the smell, the grime, the discomfort, and…
"Hello Dear, is anyone sitting here? Oh good. I'm Marjory; are you going all the way to Kansas City? I like Kansas City, don't you? What's your name – no, let me guess, you look just like my grandson. Is it … Roger? You look like a Roger. Do you like Kansas City? I do, there's always lots going on there… Did I tell you my name's Marjory? I'm pleased to meet you Roger… Do you want to see a picture of my Grandson, Peter. Here he is with his dog, Patch. He lives in Kansas City, but Patch doesn't – he died last week. Have you got a dog? I saw a dog like Patch in a film I was watching last week. He was black … or he might have been brown. I can't remember the name of the film, but there was a big red car in it…"
Dean was convinced if he took just one sniff, he'd choke on sulphur; there was more than a hint of Hell in every bus ride he'd ever taken.
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