I’ve sold plenty of cars before, but I’ve never heard of a certificate for them. My new girlfriend reckons I’m being dodgy, selling cars without them. But like, this is the real world, not primary school! What does the car need some stupid participation award for anyway? “Charlotte pays great attention in class and is always helping her peers”. Well, my cars don’t even go to school, so I don’t know what the point of that is. So the teacher spent an hour trying to think of something to make the kid feel special. Well whoop-de-doo, aren’t they just the greatest? Better rush to the school so you can be there for the presentation. It’s not like they’re graduating university or anything, calm down. So no, I don’t think I need to learn how to get a roadworthy certificate, or whatever they’re called.
But she won’t stop talking about it. “It’s illegal,” she said. “What you’re doing isn’t right,” she said. Like I care. “Alright then, where would I get one of these certificates, if I for some reason wanted one?” I asked, just to humour her insanity for a moment. “There’s an excellent car repair shop around Northcote where you can get them,” she told me. That would be good to know, if I ever started caring. Which I won’t.
Hold on. I can hear sirens. They’re getting closer. They can’t be coming for me. I haven’t done anything wrong, other than the stuff I’ve been cooking in the van or the plants in the basement. It couldn’t be because of the certificate. That would be ridiculous.
The sirens are getting closer and louder. Now they’re right outside the house. They are here for me! Oh, I should have listened to Jessica. She was right all along. Now I’m going to the big house all because I wanted to sell some cars without a participation award attached. It’s just not right! Please, if you’re reading this, sign the petition that I’m making right now. If I don’t get to post it in time, please remember me.