“Thanks for giving me a hand with my car,” said Carlos as he handed André a hammer.
“Don’t mention it,” said André between whacks. “Oops. I can fix that. I don’t mind. I’m getting tired of TV anyway. Did you know last night they preempted the game for a political debate?”
“Yeah, I watched it,” said Carlos.
“What a waste. They were so busy seducing us with platitudes. Did you see them smile? They looked like test subjects for a constipation medication ,” said André.
“I didn’t think it was that bad,” said Carlos.
“If they’re not kissing our butts, they’re slandering each other,” said André. “I felt like I needed a shower afterwards.”
“You’re too cynical,” said Carlos.
“Try to start it up,” said André. The car chugged but refused to turn over. “I prefer to think of myself as shockingly realistic.”
“But where does that get you?”
“I’m never disappointed. Take my advice, never trust anyone who wants power. They should only give it to people who don’t want it,” said André.
“It doesn’t mean they’d do a better job,” said Carlos.
“But the couldn’t do any worse,” said André. “At least they wouldn’t bask in the power.”
“That’s no guarantee of anything,” said Carlos.
Carlos sighed. Pieces of his engine littered his driveway.
“At least we get to choose our leaders,” said Carlos.
“That just makes us culpable,” said André.
“So I take it you’re not voting.”
“Me? No way. I’m not contributing to the problem,” said André.
“I won’t argue with that,” murmured Carlos.
“That’s right. When it comes to elections, I’m a conscientious objector. I’m not part of the problem or the solution,” said André proudly. “There, I finally got your carburetor loose.”
“It doesn’t have a carburetor. It’s fuel injected,” said Carlos.
“Well, there’s your problem. I don’t know a thing about injections. You’re outta luck, dude,” said André.
Carlos sighed again. “I’ll go call a mechanic.”