Okay, I’m starting to get a bit worried. The show starts in less than an hour, and my car really isn’t sounding great. You see, I’m a stunt driver. A famous one, actually. Perhaps you’ve heard of me: Darus ‘Courage’ Johnson. That’s right, I’m the Courage Johnson that your parents used to tell you about. Super daredevil driver, the best in the country.
Ol’ Bessie isn’t doing too well these days, but I refuse to trade her in for something newer, and supposedly better. We’ve been doing this job together for thirty years. I’d sooner retire than drive another car. Unfortunately, that’s looking more likely by the minute. This could very well be my last show. I just hope I don’t go out in shame.
What she really needs is a log book service to get her right back up to scratch. There’s no time for that now. People are waiting for the great Courage to show his stuff. I’ll just have a few more bottles of whiskey and we’ll be good to go. I won’t even be able to hear the rumbling of Bessie’s engine at that point. It’ll be like it’s not even happening. Then, after the show, I’ll get her checked out. If they can’t do anything, I’ll announce my retirement. Yeah, that’s a good plan.
If there was a car mechanic near me, I’d give them a call, and get Bessie patched up within the hour. Local mechanics are always willing to come out. I give them free tickets to the show, of course. Some of them want a backstage pass as well, even though they’re already backstage, and my time after the show is dedicated to the orphan and cancer kids who wanted to see me.
But unfortunately, tonight’s show is in the middle of nowhere. There isn’t a mechanic for a hundred kilometres. So I’ve just got to get through this one and hope nothing goes horribly wrong. All right. Let’s do this.