Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26695280-20150718001528

''' Disclaimer: this is inspired by a real urban legend from the USSR, I merely liked the Volga, the Volga in this pasta does not act the way it does in the urban legend.

Call me hipster but I collect vintage items, I have a wall of vinyls in my room, a gramophone from 1939, an old TV set with wood paneling I have a bunch of retro appliances, to put it simply my old 1955 LA home has “all original parts”. I brandish a fedora on my head and a mustache on my face and my wardrobe is out of Casablanca. However there is one item I have always wanted, an old car. I searched far and wide for 50s style sedans for years, hell it’s almost been a decade until recently. When tooling around on the internet for an old car I found something a bit off, someone was selling this old black ambulance for only $500. The article stated. “ALL ORGINAL 1963 BLACK VOLGA AMBULANCE No rust runs perfectly only has 28 miles on it FACTORY NEW.” The car looked perfect, the seller was only a few miles away from my house so on Saturday I went to check the Volga out. When I arrived at the seller’s house I was surprised to find a rather decrypted old garage that was barely able to be called a house, the rickety wooden door slowly crept open. The sound of rusty cogs grinding on an old rubber belt filled the air as the sleek black paint glimmered of the Volga in the sunny skies as it pulled out. A rather old Russian man who could barely speak English stood out of the car.” Eees only 500 hundred doulars please.” The man croaked. “There you go good sir”. I handed him a few 50s. “eehave nice dauy yeung man.” I walked over to the Volga. I clicked open the thin metal door and hoped inside. I started the engine with a deafening roar the car sprung to life. The only thing off was the sound and the smell. The engine sounded a bit off as if something was loose or stuck and the car smelt of old dingy leather almost yet slight different. I supposed because the car was over 50 years old that sort of thing was expected.

The car handled great. This car seemed factory new, why was it so cheap? Before I could answer these important questions I decided to call up my old friend back from grade school who loves cars and is an amazing mechanic. “Hey Lewis I got a car.” “Radical, what kind of car is it.” “A Volga from the Soviet Union.” “I’ve never seen one before in my years of fixing cars, can I see it later.” “Sure want to meet at the Starbucks.” “Yeah, 8ish sound good.” “Yeah.” Then as I hung up, I almost hit the cars bumper in front of me. As I passed the car the driver proceed to flip me off as I drove away back to my house. Later that night when I met up with Lewis, the minute he saw it he was infatuated. The whole time we never went inside because Lewis couldn’t shut up about it. He haggled prices for it and the whole time he circled the car finding something new to admire about it every second. After about an hour of standing in a Starbucks parking lot watching Lewis gawking at the Volga I had enough of it and abruptly took Lewis out of his trance. “I’m going home, does u want to spend the night at my place and watch some old movies on Netflix.” After about a minute Lewis finally responded almost in a dazed matter. “Can I just fix your car?” “What’s wrong with it?” I snapped. “The engine needs some tuning.” “How the hell could you deduce that Sherlock, you didn’t open the hood?” “Hell you said yourself that you have never seen a Volga, and now you’re an expert now!” “Look, Lewis buddy, I think your drunk, you shouldn’t drive right now mate, just get in my car and ill drive you home.” Then Lewis barely made words, “Can I just crash at your place, on the couch, and just watch Netflix.” “Um…sure pal, if it helps you feel better.” I insincerely replied. The drive back home was quick because I only lived about 2 miles from the Starbucks. As Lewis stumbled out of the car I unlocked my front door. We were watching Ghostbusters when I dozed off, but then I heard something in the garage. I grabbed my flippy floppies and ran out to the garage to find Lewis in the manner of how someone sleepwalks, was sleep fixing the Volga, thinking nothing of it, because I was too tired to process thoughts properly, I slowly closed the door on the way out, until Lewis muttered something. “The new engine belt will be here in a few days buddy.” After hearing that, I slammed the door and ran away back into my house, since the garage is detached from the main house. I opened my front door, slammed it back almost immediately and ran up into my bedroom, I looked the bedroom door and hid under my covers like I was five. I woke up later than usual on that Moring, it was almost 12. Curious I went to go check to see if Lewis had left. When I walked downstairs into the living room he wasn’t there, I checked the kitchen, wasn’t there. I checked my whole house I couldn’t find him. He couldn’t have walked he lives so far away? Until a thought raced my mind, could he be in the garage still? I slipped on my flippy floppies again and slowly entered the garage, so if Lewis was sleeping I would wake him. I did find him, but there was a catch, Lewis had his face down in the engine, the hood and firmly shut on his head, leaving a huge dent in the hood. Leaking from the engine was a massive amount of blood, because you know this isn’t a cliché rip-off of every haunted car story. Then I thought, no that would be to meta, anyway back to the car. I was about to call the police when the car started and the radio turned on, however it wasn’t any station from the LA area, It was just a man talking. “whoa whoa comrade don’t ruin the fun yet beside if the cops saw this they would think it’s you comrade.” “Can you hear me?” “Of course I can, I hear everything you say comrade.” “Who the hell are you?” “The Volga you smartass.” The cars lights flickered on. “Beside one person isn’t enough old pal oh no, I want to kill you to buddy, sure you’ll taste real good yum!” I ran out the door screaming as the Volga broke the garage door.''' 