Smell of an oilly rag

We’re not going to make it,” fretted Petunia.

“This car runs on the smell of an oily rag,” assured Denver.

“But the dial’s…”

“Those things are factory set to show “E” way before the tank runs out.”

“You’ll be pushing if it does.”

“Na, I’ll just ring the AA.”

“What about the…well you know what?”

“Don’t swaet the small stuff. I’ll hide it good.”

“I’d hide you good if you didn’t”

“You and whose army?”

“Army of one…taking out the trash!”

“Whatever,”

Petunia turned up the car-stereo and sang along with Israel Kamakawiwo'ole.

“You’ve got the cool vocals there, Pets.”

“You’ll get cool vocals if this car conks out.”

“Always the threats.”

“You know it.”

With 100kms from the nearest town, Denver knew it only too well.