I've been seeing this mysterious Mercedes Benz around my neighborhood for a few weeks now. I can't figure out who owns it. Possibly an invisible man. It reminds me of Richard Dreyfuss in American Graffiti, (two effes one tee) trying to figure out who the woman was in the 56 White T-Bird. Turns out it was Suzanne Somers, before Three's Company and Thigh-Master. American Grafitti would have been a lot more enjoyable if a) they hadn't made the sequel, and b) Richard Dreyfuss had to deal with an unusually large shark instead of a bunch of dick head gang members.
See I'm off topic as usual. I want to know who owns this Mercedes and its keeping me up at night. I could die. I think its from the early to mid 60's, and it has a manual transmission shifter on the steering column. I really picture it being owned by a wealthy political mover with his own driver named Chauncey. This cries out for a dramatization.
In Act 1 of our three part drama, Sir jumps in the back of the Benz and heads off to the Tory party bunker.
Chauncey: To the Bunker sir?
Sir: Yes Chauncey.
Chauncey: Another problem with the boss sir?
Sir: Yes yes.
Chauncey: Big boss is a cool one ain't he sir. A real iceberg. A Cyborg.
Sir: Chauncey, what did I tell you this morning.
Chauncey: This morning sir...em...you said Sir, don't run over any children or else the Calgary Sun will photograph their bloody little booties and it will be bad for us..
Sir: No Chauncey, before that.
Chauncey: Oh sir, about not talking about the boss before you've had drinks sir?
Sir: Yes. And do look out, you nearly hit that child.
Chauncey: Well if you ask me he's a pretty dimly lit bulb.
Sir: Chauncey!
Chauncey: Yes sir.
(I can see the need for developing a strong female character in this story.) Please recommend this post
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