Jerry & the Dude walked across the empty lot. On the building, Jerry could barely make out the remnants of a neglected sign. “7th Street Motors?” Jerry questioned out-loud.
“That was the name of the car lot that used to be here.” Dude informed.
“But we’re on Main Street.”
“Yes, well during the unfortunate mishap of 2009, & subsequent scandal that broke out, 7th Street Motors moved here to try to distance themselves from the whole mess. It didn’t work”
“Scandal?”
“Yeah, there used to be this line of import cars that had some problems with uncontrollable acceleration, non-functioning brakes & questionable steering. Well, after the lawsuits were all settled, the auto-empire owners retired & sold off everything that was left. It was shipped to the states & ended up here.”
Jerry looked at the building & then back at the Dude, “There must not have been much.”
“No, but it is exactly what we need.” Dude opened a door & stepped inside.
They were greeted by a curly black haired man sporting a beard & glasses. Jerry stared, trying to place where he recognized him from. Then he spoke, “Welcome, welcome to ‘Lumberjack Motors’!” He spread his arm out in an exagerated gesture for the 3 vehicles in the dusty showroom.
“Henry?” Jerry asked.
“Yes?”
“Henry Kriegel?”
“Yes?!”
“Of the Bozeman Tea Party?”
“Yeah.”
“But, you disappeared 3 years ago, after a 4th of July anti-the-Lumberjacks-rally-rally.”
“No, no. That was just a rumour that Tea Party started spreading before they disbanded. I had a change of heart & joined up with the “Gay Lumberjacks For Jesus”. That really pissed them off for a while, so they started spreading these rumours. However, apparently the Tea Party couldn’t survive without a charasmatic leader, so they kind of just fizzled out. And, once they were gone, the whole ‘Lumberjack’ thing didn’t really have a purpose, so most of us have suspended activity until we’re needed again.”
“You are.” the Dude interjected.
“What do you need?” Henry’s eyes lit up.
“A Car.…”
“Oh.” The light of political intrigue dimmed.
“And to talk to Helga.”
“The mechanic?”
“Yes.”
Henry left them in the showroom. The Dude approached the Prius & popped the hood. “This one should do”.
“Do What?” a slightly husky female voice asked.
As the Dude slammed the hood. Jerry spun around to see a woman of great athletic stature ( not to mention a decent rack, at least that he could imagine from the sillouhette of the coveralls). She looked capable of bench-pressing TH400 transmission bolted to a 454 chevy big block. What was she doing working on these tinker-toy imports?
The Dude smiled, “Jerry, this is Spartacus.”
