Back in the day, there was a component that sat on top of a car engine. We called it a carburetor, or carb, for short. This has nothing to do with the Atkins diet. Sorry to disappoint you.

That's the only special automotive knowledge you'll need to read this post. It’s merely the next chapter in the chronicles of the demon car from hell.

Speaking of back in the day; we had a new person start at work and she used that phrase while telling a story. Given that she was born the same year I graduated high school, I was wondering exactly what "day" she was referring to...but I digress.

Back to the car from hell: I had to rebuild the carb on the flaming demon car because it began running as if it were under water. I wanted to hoard the last 3 or 4 horsepower it had left so I bought a rebuild kit and tore into it.
I've done this numerous times before on other vehicles so it wasn't like I needed the instruction sheet sitting next to me. I could do this in my sleep.
Mrs. Muzikdude and I were living in an apartment at the time since we had only been married a few months. We didn’t have a garage and it was over 100 degrees outside so I decided to take the carb and rebuild it in our kitchen.

The old carburetor gasket had been in place for so long that it was stuck and the carb was difficult to pull off. I tugged on it and it let loose all at once spilling gasoline all over the engine. I just disregarded the spill and went on my merry way. The gasoline would eventually evaporate.

In retrospect, I guess I could have taken the car to a professional but I was a newlywed and besides, I knew what I was doing. I had to do this job to prove my worth to my bride…right?

The rebuild went fine and I reinstalled the carburetor with no problems. This came as a surprise to me because I knew this car was possessed by demons. It was less than month earlier that I sat on a curb watching it burn.

All I had left to do was make the final adjustments with the engine running. I turned the key and the car sputtered then blew a flame out of the carburetor.

Remember the gas I had spilled during the removal phase?

The entire engine compartment went up in flames.

I was worried about setting fire to the apartment complex so I threw the car into neutral and rolled it into the street.

I walked into the apartment and Mrs. Muzikdude asked how it was going. I said “The car’s on fire again”. (there’s a sentence I never thought I would have to say)

Mrs. Muzikdude ran to the window and said “uh…Uh…UH!”

This was the first time I actually witnessed Mrs. Muzikdude’s stress induced inarticulacy. She mustered up the sentence “what are you going to do?”

“Let it burn” I said “It worked itself out last time…I might as well give it another shot”.

The neighbors all came out to watch the fire. A couple of them had knocked on the door to let us know the car was burning in the street. I just invited them in for coffee but they declined…they wanted to watch the car burn. One neighbor came out with a little kitchen fire extinguisher but couldn’t get close enough to the car to use it. I told him to take it back to his kitchen and bring marshmallows...he didn't laugh. I guess no one could figure out why I wasn't in a panic.

I hated that car.

When all the gas had burned off the fire went out. Could this be the end of the demon car?

Not a chance.

To be continued…