Evil Callie Briggs

This was my father's car." Callie growled through her teeth. "It's got heart. It's made of good, old-fashioned Megakat steel, and I am not replacing it."

"There's a company we work with out of Fursdale which specializes in vintage cars, and they might have parts for this…but they don't come cheap." Larry shrugged. "Sorry, Missus Briggs, but as good as this car used to be, now it's more of a clunker. You'd be better off trading it in...no, scratch that. At this point, it's only good for scrap."

Callie fought down the twitch above her eyelid. Taking in a breath to calm herself, she reached one paw up and removed her glasses, then made a deliberate show of cleaning them.

"Well, for as honest as you're being with me, I think I'll need to seek out a second opinion." She set her glasses back on and stared hard at the older, overweight tom.

"Sure. That's your prerogative." Larry shrugged. "I'm just saying, as it is, you'll be lucky to get another 150 miles out of it. You go anywhere else in town, they'll either laugh you out of the shop or promise you the moon and then rip you off. I'd think seriously about my offer."

Callie chuffed at that. "My father was an auto mechanic for his entire life. He'd roll over in his grave if I accepted your offer."

Larry cracked a smile. "Well. Guess you're out of luck, then. Will you be wanting to drive it out of here then?"

"Of course."

"Take my advice, drive it right to the salvage yard outside of town." Larry chuckled. "Hell. You might even be able to convince those two bums out there to take a crack at it."