A Man Walks Into A Bar
By Richard James Hazel
The motor sputtered slightly before the engine light flickered on. Minutes later, Franklin Westerman stood looking under the hood of his Jaguar, attempting to will it back to life by sheer force of thought. He had grown terribly accustomed to things going as he desired. This appeared to be one instance where his will was going to be circumvented. As he gazed upon the mechanical maze of metal, plastic, and rubber it occurred to him that entropy did not exempt its inevitable toll from the finer things in life. Regardless of his philosophical musing, his mechanic would be getting an earful when he got back to Denver.
Franklin slid into the leather driver&rsq...
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