Fat old retired nobody, blathering into the abyss.
W: 317.0 BS: 80
This story happened when I was just a wee lad of 20 or so. Time enough to have a GM master certificate, but still very young and a bit headstrong.
I was working in a shop down Tampa way. Big place, having a large body shop with full spray booths, my two bay mechanical shop, a full radiator shop, a fleet of wreckers, and an impound lot favored by local PD and State Sheriff officers.
My duties were keeping the wreckers in top shape, repairing mechanical issues on wrecks in the body shop, and whatever customer work wandered in. I got the job while working in another (Goodyear) shop, and they brought me a car that nobody could decipher. I fixed it in minutes for free, and a job offer came out of it.
So... the radiator shop. For a time it was the solitary den of a greasy little weasel who despite his objectionable character could do a good job on radiators. Come to find, reported by other radiator shops in the city (They all drank together), Sparkles was stealing and selling supplies. Even whole new units still in the box. How it worked was he would slip out back and drop the stuff over the back fence and his wife would quietly pick it all up. She was the one who flogged the stuff off to other shops, I suppose thinking nobody knew who she was. Pretty sad little plan, when you come down to it.
The boss of this family shop was notified, who then let the local PD in on the gag, and it took less than a day to nail them both 'lead handed', so to say. Sparkles got to ride in the nice officers backseat, trussed like a sheep in a slaughterhouse, while Mrs. Sparkles was kicked loose to sweat it alone for a few days. No idea why. Not my problem.
I told all this, so I could tell this last part.
Sparkles vehicle was parked out back, right next to where Mrs. Sparkles picked up the booty. Boss man asked me to 'have a look' at the car, which I was glad to do. 10 seconds to grab a couple things, and five minutes alone with the mid-sized GM coupe. Back in the office.
Old Ed asked me what I could do in only a few minutes. I showed him my tools, a pencil and a pair of wire cutters I had dulled years before to use as crimpers. "You cut the wiring?" he asked.
"Nope. Too easy to fix. See, that pencil is graphite. You go over the ignition system with that, and you can just draw where you want the juice to go. Invisible. Do the distributor cap right and you might get the exhaust to blow clean off the car".
"What about the wire cutters?" he asked.
"Crimpers, not cutters. Crimp the trans cooler lines in an out of the way spot and the trans will burn up. If they don't see the crimp, every trans they put in will burn up too. Same with brake lines. The pressure gets past the crimp, but will stay applied after the pedal is let up. Miss the crimps, and the brakes lock up no matter what they replace".
He just looked at me, and after a minute said "You are an evil fuck. Hope you never get mad at me".
"Naw boss. I like you. Most honest crook I ever met".
45 years ago. Like my old man often said... "Statute of limitations is my friend".
W: 311.6 BS: 108
W: 314.0 BS: 114
W: 316.2 BS: 117
W: 316.2 BS:
W: 316.6 BS: NA
I call this 'Butter Bread', for obvious reasons. Tender, rich, and yes... buttery. Also dead simple to make, slices like a dream, and makes wonderful toast and sandwiches. I use a kitchenaid to do the bulk of the work, but by hand is a winner too.
1 cup warm water (100-110 degrees).
3 cups bread flour. 2.5 cups for dough and .5 cup to adjust dough and flour the board.
1 stick salted butter, melted and well warmed.
2 teaspoons sugar.
1 teaspoon salt (to taste).
2 teaspoons dry yeast.
