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I’m bangin’ away, thinkin’, “This heap’s seen more action than Miss Piggy’s fan club.” Happy moment? Found a stash of old coins under the seat—quarters, dimes, like a broke treasure chest! Prolly tips from its brothel days, ha! Surprised me good—thought I’d just get tetanus. “The more you know a person…”—or car, I guess—“the more you see their flaws.” This thing’s got dents like acne scars, engine coughin’ like a smoker. Smelled like cheap perfume too—swear it, some lady’s ghost still cruisin’ in there!

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But then, just as I’m about to leave, I realize I’ve lost my wallet. Panic mode activated! I’m searching everywhere, retracing my steps like a detective. I’m sweating bullets, thinking about all the cash I had. Finally, I find it on the bench where I was sitting earlier. Phew!

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