Because I'd left the job where I'd had the Laguna, I wanted something cheap to get me around. A "mate" had a Cavalier for sale for £250. I went to see it, at night, and just asked if it was ok - "sound" said the guy. I handed over the cash and off I went only, the next day, once it was warm there was an ominous rattle from the engine. It sounded very much like the bottom end was fucked to me - took it to a mate, yep, bottom end fucked.

So I went back to my mate thinking there'd been some sort of mistake. He wouldn't take my calls, was never in, etc, etc. Under normal circumstances I'd have just beat the £250 out of him but sadly, he was a known lunatic so would have tore me a new arsehole.

I was in a bit of trouble with the law myself over other stuff so I decided to be philisophical and palm it off onto a car dealer. Again, the dealer looked at me in the eye "Do I need to look at that Cavalier or is it ok?" - "Sound" said I, "and anyway, you're only giving me £450 it!". Yep, I made £200 on that bag of shite despite the engine being fucked. It's his own fault - the lazy bastard couldn't be arsed to get out of his chair and take a look.

Arfer Daley