Mister Jalopy recounts his thrilling adventure of finding a pinball machine on the side of the road and bringing it home.
With the bulk of the machine in my driveway, I raced back down the street in the Country Squire and there was a grizzled alcoholic pawing the Captian Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy backglass. I excused myself as I pushed past him and loaded the head in the back of the wagon. A tired old wino is match for my pinball desires. He said, ‘Ok, you can have that, but I am taking this!’ as he thumped his hand on a shit brown file cabinet. Whatever, pruno.
