I wandered into the garage, where a mechanic was shaking his head. It wasn't going to be good news.
"What's wrong with it?" I asked.
"The thing and the wotsit have had it and the whatyamacallit is on its last legs. Couple all of this with the fact that the oojah is knackered and the price is through the roof."
I feared the worst.
"How much?"
"Thirty quid, including labour."
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