A comedy in pseudo-Elizabethan and modern English (and a more-or-less accurate account of true events)
Edward [Father to Robin, Lord of The Garage]
Jerry [Retired engineer and full-time curmudgeon]
Robin [a not-so-innocent bystander, daughter to Edward]
Paw S [a liberal arts major, friend to Robin]
Scene: The Garage. Not just any ordinary garage mind you, a mammoth, lavish, towering beacon of a garage. A garage that is not so much a place to park the car and store your trash bins, as it is a temple for the care and consecration of tools.
[Enter Edward and Jerry]
Edward: Forsooth! The tie rods are shot, and none are to be found in the whole breadth of this humble court.
Jerry: A grievous plight to be sure. Dost thou fair daughter still wander abroad?
Edward: Verily, she doth tread the courts of distant cities.
Jerry: Make haste and send to her a message instructing their quick procurement!
20 minutes later……
Edward: Hark! I hear the rumble of chariots. My fair daughter returns!
[Enter Robin and Paw S, bearing tie rods]
Robin: Hail my lord! I bring the articles of your noble request, but fortune chanced me on a greater state, and upon embarking thy kingdom I met with my most diverting companion!
Paw S: Hi!
Edward: Oh, wimpish doddering world! We were but planning your arrival when we realized we also had quick need of brake pads.
Jerry: Tis’ true the chariot could be constructed without, but it would be a flawed figure of its form, bereft of all soundness and efficiency.
Paw S: Come fair friend! Let us not grieve, but venture out together to the castle of Autozone in quest of such treasures!
Robin: Very well. Farewell father, we shall return anon!
[Exuent Robin and Paw S.]
20 more minutes later….
[Enter Robin and Paw S, bearing brake pads]
Robin: Hail my lords we hath nobly fulfilled thy quest!
Edward: Did you get my message?
Edward: About also needing brake rotors?
Paw S: Come friend, let us away!
Robin: [mumbles darkly] ……anon.
[Exuent Robin and Paw S]
20 more minutes later….
[Enter Robin and Paw S, bearing break rotors]
Paw S: What ho! We hath fulfilled your request. Again.
Edward: Greatest gratitude for your valiant labors.
Paw S: By my quoth, thy tools outnumber the stars in the heavens.
Edward: We are masters of our trade.
Paw S: But why would any soul need more than, oh I don’t know, three hammers?
Jerry: Verily, different jobs call for different types of hammers.
Paw S: [Boldly walking over to the tool box and picking up several hammers] Isn’t this just a plain old ordinary hammer I see before me, the handle towards my hand?
Jerry: The hammer of thy left arm is a carpenter’s hammer. The hammer of thy right is an engineers hammer.
Paw S: Aye, and this?
Jerry: ‘Tis a soft hammer.
Paw S: A soft hammer?
Jerry: For when thou does not wish to strike so heavy a blow.
Paw S: Why can’t you just hit it less hard?
Edward: [aside to Jerry] Peace! She is untaught in our customs!
Paw S: I mean, they’re basically glorified rocks right? ‘Twould be more sensible to find a battered stone.
Jerry: To those unwise to the ways of tempering and manufacture it ‘twould be but a petty trifle. But to those whom fate and fortune deem devisers of mechanics, it is all the difference, as between a bodkin and a barrel.
Paw S: You know, Lord IKEA manages to put everything together with those little wrenches.
Jerry: Thou hast the sensibility of a pusher of dirt! Begone blighted bilge-dweller! A pox on thee!
Paw S: Whatever. [Exuent Paw S]
Robin: Farewell my lords! For thou labors on my chariot I thank thee with great debt. Alas do not behold her with loathing. The fault lies not in her wits but in her worldview. Though we walk the same earth and speak the same tongues, we are by our crafts, of different breeds, as the farmhand who looks with fear upon the tempestuous seas.