I’m here at LAX waiting for our publisher Matt’s plane to land so we can either head over to David’s to very poorly help him getting the Aztek’s transmission in order or, barring that, we’ll go get drunk somewhere. Maybe both! Who knows, it’s Pebble Week, so all bets are off. I’m currently holed up in a pleasing little nook, the sort of unexplained little niches that places like airports seem to have. If this was, say, a cathedral, this space would likely be filled with some statue of St.Albans (the patron saint of brads, tacks, and other fasteners) or something like that.
It’s not, though. It’s filled with me. Well, me and my luggage.
Want to see what it looks like? Too bad, I’m showing you anyway!
Look at that! Now you can picture the sort of glamor I’m experiencing as I write this. And “this” is another Automotive Would You Rather installment, because we haven’t had one of those in a while! So get that mind all nice and limber, chug whatever alcohol or drugs you have handy, and let’s get right into it, because Matt just landed and he’s waiting, dammit!
[Editor’s Note: I started this yesterday, and am finishing it in the Aztek! Just full disclosure. – JT]
Scenario One: Any Car You Want, As Long As There’s Goats
It’s Tuesday afternoon, which means you’re at your usual spot, doing your usual thing: struggling with a small pack of feral dogs over possession of a long chain of sausages, like you’ve seen in cartoons. So far, you’ve only managed to get the string of sausages from them once, and that was only because a freak thunderstorm scared off their strongest puller, a mangy Daschund/Great Dane mix you call “Sgt.Mudflaps.”
This time, you find the competition to be as fierce as you recall, but there’s something different: one of the sausages is actively making sounds, moaning and screaming, and it’s freaking you out. This sausage is only two links away from your end of the string, and you’re intrigued enough to make a bold decision: you’ll give up the string willingly, in order to save the noisy sausage.
You chew through the linking string (what is that? Just more intestine?) behind the moaning sausage, breaking it free, which sends you tumbling backwards and the pack of dogs launching the other way, barking in chaotic, noisy delight.
You grab the now-panting sausage and attempt to calm it down, though knowing how to placate a sausage isn’t a skill you’ve ever really had a chance to develop. Eventually, the sausage relaxes, and squirms to face you, It seems to inhale deeply, and addresses you in a booming voice:
“Sir! I am in your debt! Being consumed by a canine is the worst indignity for a Sausagion. I am Kol-Ba-Sa the Sixth, King of the Sausagions, and I pay my debts. After using my sausagist powers to scan your thinking-links I have come up with a suitable reward: I can give you any car you desire, fashioned from the very atoms of the universe itself! Want a Dual-Ghia! It’s yours! A Camaro, a Corvair, a Countach? All yours!
Sausage power is potent and vast, but it does have limits. In order for the universe to properly balance out, every time you create a new car, a pack of six to eleven goats will be summoned into existence at a random location on Earth. Should anything happen to any of these goats anything that results in the death of even one goat then your car will disappear, immediately.
I am Kol-Ba-Sa! I have spoken!”
There is then a flash of light, you feel an odd warmness in your pants, and you can feel your newfound power. You decide to test things out: you close your eyes and envision, oh, a Crosley Hot Shot. There’s a wooshing sound, and then a flash of light, and you find yourself looking at a shiny red mint-condition Crosley. After geeking out over it for a half hour or so, you check the news on your phone and see a story about how a retirement orgy in Lansing was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a pack of six to eleven goats.
An hour later, you hear on social media that one of the goats died when it ate three bags of prescription medication. A moment later, the Crosley disappears.
Huh.
Scenario Two: Get Out Of Trouble But Your Socials Are Going To Be A Mess
As you probably have guessed, the world is run by a shady cabal. I can’t divulge just who runs this cabal except to say it’s probably not who you’re imagining, unless you’re thinking about Quakers, in which case – wait, wait, I’ve said too much. Too bad there’s no way to “delete” characters that make up these words, but I think I can trust your candor.
Anyway, this cabal has reached out to you to make you a deal, because they have been watching you. A lot. And they noticed that occasionally you get in some automotive jams, like getting impounded because your registration has run out or you’re getting a speeding ticket or running into a mailbox or sideswiping a cop car or whatever.
The cabal has pledged to get you out of any automotive-related fuckup, no matter how bad: everything from parking tickets to a drunken attempt to make a new drive-through window in a Schlotzsky’s Deli with the front of your car. Whatever it is, they’ll make it go away.
There is, of course, a cost. The cabal also controls The Algorithm that decides what things you see, and they know embarrassing content always clicks. So, every time they have to help you, they cause something embarrassing about you to go viral online. And it will be embarrassing. But, knowing how the internet works, you’ll probably only be the main character for a few weeks. But that’s better than having a terrible DUI on your record, right?
Right?
Okay, so what’s it going to be? Any car you want, but it summons a pack of goats into being somewhere, or getting away with any automotive fuck-up, at the risk of a video of you trying and failing to masturbate (or something similar) going viral online! Choose wisely!
Literal Car Swapping Or A Magic Night With The Tire Man: Automotive Would You Rather
Automotive Would You Rather: Spark Plug Of Truth Or The Savior Sandwich Of Arizona
Automotive Would You Rather: Specific Car Model Teleporting Or Over-The-Air-Mental Updates
What happens if a goat dies while you are driving your magically conjured Lola Mk.6 at 100+ mph down the freeway?
I had the same thought. I think I am going to have to invest in some metal underwear for when I end up skidding down the road with my hands still miming holding a steering wheel after the car I was in disappears.
I ain’t no goat murderer. With 70% of Earth’s surface area covered in oceans and more not-insignificant area also violently inhospitable to goats, I’ll take the second door. I can live with internet embarrassment. Plenty of people do it for a career and they don’t even have magical powers.
Goat is damn delicious! I mean I think goats are cute and fun too but yum!
True insanity. Jet lag is a cruel mistress and/or the Teaches of Peaches Jason was drinking at Spago is so fancy that gets you retrograde drunk before you drink it.
Geographically speaking a significant portion of the Earth is exceedingly inhospitable to goats; there’s a decent chance you’d only have your wish-mobile as long as it took a goat to drown.
Be right back, asking ChatGPT how long a goat can swim for.
But you could always wish for more goats. Keep your blood-mobile running for as many goats’ lives you can carry on your conscience.
Jesus. This got dark.
I laughed my heart out. Not really, I don’t have a heart.
The goats. I guess if a car disappears due to a goat’s demise, I can summon another one, right?
Also, do I get to eat the remaining goats?
Now I have a song, “11 y 6”, by Fito Páez, going on in my head. Duh.
For reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JXzSU38zpho&pp=ygUGMTEgeSA2.
So I can wreck my racecar and all my friends will think I sawed up a battery with a chainsaw? I can live with that.
Goats, for an F40. And hopefully at least one of the goats bites it before it’s due for its next service.
Truth be told, you don’t own a car like that – it owns you.
I have a sister and a niece who would happily open a no-kill goat farm. This was too easy. Also, my get-in-trouble-with-cars days are long behind me. Now, where’s my 1966 Buick Riviera?
I have to go with the goats on this one. I just haven’t screwed up that badly, in a car, lately. That said, I might be able to be convinced otherwise, if the cabal could conjure up a Schlotzsky’s Deli. The closest one is about 100 miles away, and I got a massive craving for an Original while reading this.
This is a very difficult choice because there’s going to be several goats involved either way.
Jason: “This is my niche! It was made for me!”
Yeah, unfortunately, with my luck, the goats would appear somewhere near an active volcano, and as soon as I got in the car and got up to speed…I’d be doing a simulacrum of GTA5 ragdoll physics (or maybe Saints Row 3).
If one were to yoink out some parts for resale, would they also disappear when the rest of the car does?
An unscrupulous person could certainly find a use for spawning vehicles whose existence is transitory… neighbor always blocking your driveway or complaining about your yard cars? Pack their lawn with the most worthless vehicles one can imagine, sure to be an inconvenience that will mysteriously resolve itself over time.
Could one take a plane ride and spawn them mid-flight as unguided kinetic weapons – or would they appear in/on the plane and cause an unplanned inflight disassembly?
Also, gyros become much more popular!
Totes, McGoats!
My wife says I should apologize to you all. I don’t know why…
You know what you did…
I bet she also went, “Ugh, all you do is talk about that stupid car website!”
Wait. Do we have the same wife?
I get a clean, clear title for the car, right? If so, I bet I could unload a car before a goat dies (so long as the don’t, like, drop out of the sky when they appear).
Go Team Goats!
Now for MY Would You Rather…
Would you rather cut a loud, wet, smelly fart every time you tell a lie, or have Thunderstruck by AC/DC play from your genitals every time you get the slightest bit aroused?
I fart frequently anyhow, so I’ll go with the farts.
How’s the sound quality? Dolby?
Jason, that niche was originally designed for a phone booth. You know, those things from a bygone era.
yeah, was going to mention that as well, also to be found in other public corridors of a certain age, like hospitals. Some of the architectural ones look more claustrophobic than others. At least the outdoor Bell booths were all of a standard size (i think).
And yes the other question, the “string” is just the tubing twisted as the links are being formed.
As much as being the Main Character would be relatively fleeting, I just don’t have the need for the help. And I don’t want to make myself the kind of person who needs them to get me out of a DUI or something. And I don’t think it’s really worth it for the few speeding tickets I have received.
On the other hand, I have aphantasia, so I can think about a car, but I can’t envision one. So I might not get any use out of the goats, either, depending on how strictly we interpret these rules. And I’m a stickler for details, so I guess that power is useless for me.
I guess I’ll be embarrassed if I get a ticket or something. It’s fine, I guess.
Sorry, as funny as the results might be sometimes (see: Goat Simulator) I cannot imagine inflicting random tragedy upon Goatkind like that. Main Character Syndrome it is.
Sausagions, hah hah hah! What, have they got you writing scripts for ‘Doctor Who,’ now? I’ll play along. Going goats all the way. But will Sausagions be confused if the car I wish for is a ‘67 GTO, because it is a Goat? Or, if I ask for a Goat, will I get a Goat or a goat? And if I get a goat, does that mean 8-12 cars will randomly pop up somewhere? Maybe I’ll avoid the confusion and just ask for a Ram pickup. Oh, right … Anyway, this has all been a fun joke. Now, please excuse me, I’ve got to run and throw my box of Quaker Old Fashioned Oats into the river, just to be on the safe side.
If I have no control of the goats (or let’s get real even if they ended up in my house I wouldn’t have control of the goats) then I’m going with the immunity. I assume the cabal won’t bother posting my shame to The Autopian, so it’s not like I’d actually notice the damage anyway.
ANY car, and it’s a Crosley?!? yeah that’s a Jason post. By remarkable coincidence, there are 2 in my local craigslist search parameters, that have been up for a week, guy trimming his collection, look great, restored, and 6k for 46 CC sedan , 7k for 41 convertible. I don’t remember ever seeing Crosleys pop up before.
You probably missed them because they’re quite small and hard to see.
I’m surprised they don’t trade exclusively within the Ringling-brothers family.
Forget the Crosley! I am choosing a Tucker. And as I drive off in my Tucker with 8 goats as my passengers I can’t help but to drive the Tucker like I stole it because Tucker’s are so rare and valuable no one would believe that the Kol-Ba-Sa the Sixth, King of the Sausagions gifted it to me. I only want to get it home and parked into the safe confines of my garage.
And, in the event that the Police pulled me over due to my aggressive driving I would have to point to my passengers and use them as my Scapegoat. 😉
Not knowing where the goats land, I can’t protect them. Having a car disappear while I’m comin’ in hot would be suboptimal. And, I’ve always wanted to emulate Gnossos Pappadopoulis, so I’ll take Immunity
Ouch. I can only imagine the road rash if the car drops out from under you while you’re screaming down the Autobahn.
We once had a bad ass black pit bull.
My wife took him to the vet one day.
And he got whacked. (not in a Sopranos sort of way)
For a while afterwards his new name was Mudflap…
Thanks for the laugh Torch.
And Goats for me.
Goats, goats, goats!
I don’t actually get into too many automotive troubles, so rolling the dice and being able to experience any car I want for a while until something happens to one of those goats is good enough for me.
There’s an empty lot by my house (in Houston, I know!) and it’s got 5 or 6 goats and at least 2 donkeys in it and I go out of my way to drive past it wherever I’m going. So, I’m team goat.