Norma is ready to be picked up. He was done, he said. He had discovered the problem, and, his voice, icy with disdain, advised me it could easily have been avoided, if I took better care of my car.
"Why, why do you mean?" innocence dripped from my voice.
"You do not garage this car." Each word was clipped. Dripping with Teutonic scorn.
"I....I...." he had me. I've heard some people use those big attached storage units on their houses for cars, but, I thought it was an urban legend.
"You are right, she sits outside, BUT, she has a car cover!"
"Oh, they love those, the car covers. They can glide under them, doing their evil work. You. Don't. Deserve. This. Car. They got to it." His voice shook with rage.
"Who? What? Did a Keebler elf go bad? What happened to my car??"
"A mouse. A dirty mouse crawled up inside your car, while you had it sitting outside in a carrrr cover... and it made a nest in the wires, and it ate through. You may pick up this masterful piece of machinery at 2P. Bring your checkbook."
He hung up.
A fucking mouse.