Motoring

The car wouldn't start. Twenty one attempts. That was a sign that it was fucked.
He would have to get a lift in and call the garage from work. What an inconvenience. He put the keys on top of the right rear tyre.
He called the garage and told them his problem and where the keys were. They'd take care of everything, the mechanic told him.
He received a call fifteen minutes later.
The keys weren't there. Nor was the car.