I’s just callin to tell you you were right about that cadallack converter. We got about twenny miles from the rest stop I called you from before and I smelled it again. Cynthia put her hand on the passenger side of the tranny hump and squalled. I got out and stuck my head under there and the motherfucker was glowing, I could see it reflecting ths red glow off the asphalt in the dark. So we just stretched out in the back and slep till morning.
I got the tire iron like you said and I found a big rock and I hammered the pointy end through the side and wraggled it all around in there. Busted up all the shit inside like you said. That got us into East Saint Paul.
Yesterday I got a hacksaw and figured I’d just cut the fucker off and clean it out or maybe stick a chunk of pipe in there, but when I banged on it, it was quiet like there was no pieces inside. I guess all that shit just cooked and rattled out of there. If it ain’t hurting no more I reckon it’s fine.
So I just wanted to let you know about that and tell you we made it into East Saint Paul. I know you wanted to write letters but we’re going to head over to Cynth’s brothers place, but she’s pissed at me again so we’ll see. I’ll try an find out what about that steel.
Okay. Talk to you later. Bye.