In the farthest corner of the Shredder yard sits a late-model LTD with fifty-one thousand miles on it. It should be slated for shredding, but it's not. It's going to get a beauty makeover instead. John tries to explain why to Octavia, but it's hard to come up with a reason since there is none--at least none that makes sense. The car runs, but it isn't driveable. A discouraging odor has seen to that. Which is how the Senior referred to this death bouquet: a discouraging odor. A challenge, he offered with the meagerest of fist pumps. The Senior even skimps on fist pumps.
The smell is more than challenging. It's overwhelming. For three long summer weeks two murdered bodies lingered undiscovered in that car and they've left an eternal afterlife. It's completely upsetting, the way a smell that you've never smelled before can awaken some part of your brain that instantly remembers it. John is worried about the effect it might have on his employees. What startling behaviors will result form their false recovered memories awakened by this smell? Later, at some party, the antics might find their way into a new entertaining anecdote, but the actual anecdote-generating experience has never been pleasant. Quit pissing on Ada's car right now, for example. It's not that John has actually found himself saying this to a worker, it's that he's found himself saying this more than once. A favorite winter sport, resulting in funny yellow icicles, sure to provide a laugh or two when he recounts it. But it's not amusing at all when Ada is getting into her car.
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