The Untimely Death of the Clammobile

And so it came to pass that late in the seventh Year of Our Clam (YOOC) the Fiesta was beset upon by a great multitude of mechanical plagues. The blessed cooling waters that passed within its bowels leaked to the road below with incredible regularity. Clambo was very sad and wished he could make his chariot as if new, but as the year drew to a close he found that his cash flow was hardly a trickle. Clambo's mom, who had gifted him the car in the first place, heard about this, and without asking him, bought him a new car. Clambo had been thinking about repairing the Fiesta and then driving it until it died.

Still the question remained as to how to get back to Long Island for the summer. Clambo decided that he would fix the Fiesta, drive it home, and then -- sniff -- sell it.

So off he and the little Fiesta went to the radiator shop.

Clambo found a repairman there, brought him over to his car, and said in a pitiful tone of voice, "Can you fix it?"

The man looked over the busted radiator briefly and said with terrible finality, "I can't fix that!"

Clambo's heart fell; this was truly the end. He might not have enough flow to fix the Clammobile up for one last drive back to its home.

But then the man spoke again, "But I can give you a good price on a new core."

Oh, do that, do that please! Oh, rapture! There was hope!

Clambo tried not to get too excited since he hadn't seen the bill yet. "Oh, okay."

They went inside and Clambo got the estimate. Quite reasonable. It seems that someone had ordered a Fiesta radiator some time ago and never used it.

Right after Clambo signed the bill, the mechanic yelled out, "Hey guys, we're finally getting rid of the Fiesta radiator!" All of the mechanics in the garage whooped with joy. What an insult.

So with the radiator replaced he began his long drive back to Long Island. All through the trip the chariot of the Clamlord growled loudly. As the noise increased in severity Clambo realized that there was nothing to do but turn up the radio. The plan was to get as far as possible. If the car conked out, he'd just have to wait for someone to come and pick him up, and then transfer his worldly possessions to the rescuing vehicle.

It rained lightly most of the way until he reached the Palisades Parkway one hour north of New York City. There the sky opened up, and canines and felines of all descriptions fell upon the road, flooding it. As Clambo and his little car inched their way across the George Washington Bridge, the growling noise changed to a scraping sound. Within a minute the noise abated as Clambo heard a resounding clunk coming from beneath his little vehicle, and the growling noise intensified. There was no mistaking it. The muffler had fallen off. Truly, this was a sad day for the Clamking.

After limping home with his injured vehicle, Clambo was granted possession of his new car. It was the antithesis of the Fiesta, a 1977 Ford LTD II. The LTD is double the weight of the no-longer-festive-Fiesta, and has an 8 cylinder automatic transmission engine. While less environmentally sound, it had more room for his followers, and facilitated the possibility of the conception of an heir to the Clamthrone.

While Clambo was driving back home after registering his new wheels with the DMV, the Supreme Being of Transportation threw a pothole in his path. Clambo instantly realized the import of the message and pulled over to the side of the road. There the all-knowing god Pointatob bellowed at Clambo, the sound resonating through the LTD's internal combustion engine.

"You know the rules of your god power over the stick shift. You may drive, but never own an automatic transmission vehicle!"

"But I got it for free," whimpered Clambo as he attempted to hide in the vinyl upholstery.

"Good deal, but you leave me no other choice. I am forced to strip you of your power. Never again will you shift like a god."

Electricity jolted throughout the body of our hero sending him reeling. It concentrated in his right hand until smoke rose from his fingertips. The glow filled the interior of the car. After what seemed like an eternity, the special effect (courtesy of Industrial Light and Magic) dissipated. Clambo collapsed on the floor of the car.

Throughout the rest of the summer the little Fiesta sat and sulked in the driveway. Occasionally, Clambo would take it for a drive up and down the street even though it no longer had its license plates. Clambo had trouble shifting, but he managed. Even though the Fiesta groaned loudly and the Clamlord was bereft of his power, the rides were invigorating.

When it was time to go back to Buffalo, Clambo did what he had been putting off. He placed an ad in the paper for the Fiesta. He left before the sale was made and told his mom to keep the money.