January 2, 2010.
Jack, Sr., hopped into his turbo charged Muscle. He headed north toward Minton. He was moving along at about 65 miles per hour. He decided to exit and drain the lizard. When he put on the blinker to turn right, his foot automatically started to touch the brake pedal which immediately hit the floor, no brakes. “Oh, shit”, he thought. He took his foot off the accelerator and let his car drift and slowly pulled onto the Emergency lane. How was he going to explain this to the cop. Then he noticed his satellite vehicle emergency device. He hit the red button and a nice lady came on. “How can I help you” she asked. “I need a tow truck out here, my brakes failed”, Senior replied. “Anyone hurt?” she politely asked. “No, just need a tow”. “We’ll send one in five minutes to your location which is showing on our computers.”
Hank Melbourne and his tow truck arrived shortly thereafter and towed Senior to the dealership in town. The mechanic looked at the car and saw the problem. “Someone sure messed with your vehicle”, he said sardonically. “What do you mean?” Jack asked fearfully. “Pretty amateur job, they punctured it with like a pen knife”, the mechanic replied. “When do you think it happened. You say you left New Orleans, it probably happened there. Some punk kid probably wanting to get a thrill.” “Could it have happened before I left for New Orleans from Montgomery?” Jack asked. “Nah, too far” the mechanic answered.
Later that day, a pleasant voice said over the phone “Jack Jenkins Motors, may I help you?” Jack liked that young woman who answered the phone at the dealership. He’d have to give her a raise, he thought to himself. “This is Big Jack, is Junior in?” “No, sir, he said he was up late last night watching football and would be sleeping in late today.” “Thanks, darlin’,” Senior replied. Jack, Sr. dialed “Junior’s home phone, it rang a couple of times and a sleepy sounding Jack, Jr. answered the phone. “Hullo”. “Junior, this is your dad, I damn near got killed this morning on the Interstate”. “What?”, Junior asked. “I damn near got killed heading home from New Orleans”, Jack, Sr. repeated. “Hhow?” Junior asked. “Brakes failed on the Interstate and I was able to roll oft the road. But had there been an emergency, I’d have been toast.” “Are you getting them fixed?” Junior asked. “Yeah, I’m at the garage right now. Someone punctured the line with a pen knife. Son, what were you doing last night?” “Dad, do you think I’d do something that chicken sh… to cut your brake line? If you need to know, I went to Jerry’s Bar to watch the game with some friends, met a hot looking chick in a Houston jersey who was quite drunk and quite willing and went her place. And yes I had my raincoats with me. I left her place at about 4 a.m. and got home around 5 a.m. and I’m pretty tired right now”, Junior responded in an obviously irritated tone. “Sorry, son, this just shook me up.” “I understand Dad, once you get your car fixed, let me know when to meet you at Hardee’s, and I’ll be there.”