Bianca: 'Ere mate, is my Vauxhall Nova ready yet? Lee: Still working on it luv. Just trying to make it roadworthy for round here. Bianca: Did you fit the blue neon lights to the windscreen washer jets? Lee: No, but I scraped my keys all along the paintwork on the passenger side. Bianca: Did you attach that huge wing-like spoiler to the back of the car? Lee: No, but I bent the wing mirror and smashed the headlamps. Bianca: Did you install the turbo woofer sound system? Lee: No, but I took your car for a joyride and wrecked the gearbox. Bianca: And did you attach those shiny alloy wheels? Lee: No, but I removed all four tyres and left the car standing on bricks. Bianca: Sounds perfect. Lee: Any time darlin'.
I don't think the local grease monkeys appreciated me taking photographs of their nefarious under-arch activities. I got some very pointed looks as I aimed my lens down this car-strewn backstreet, which made me wonder exactly what might be going on inside each of the nine brick caverns beneath the railway line. A radio blared out from the central arch as blokes in overalls busied themselves spraying paint and peering under bonnets. It looked legal enough, but I could only guess how all these semi-repaired cars had been acquired. As I rounded the bottom of the road I realised that I was being followed, so I made a hasty exit before someone fed my camera to the crusher and tinkered with my bodywork.