“How Dare They” Says Man Returning To His 1995 Seat Cordoba To Find Someone Reckons It’s Ready To Be Crushed Into A Cube — The Betoota Advocate

"How Dare They" Says Man Returning To His 1995 Seat Cordoba To Find Someone Reckons It's Ready To Be Crushed Into A Cube — The Betoota Advocate

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While it’s far from being a daily driver, a Betoota Heights man says it’s beyond the pale for someone to slip an ad for junk cars under his windscreen wiper.

“It’s a classic example of Spanish motoring,” said Wal Greenslade, a quantity surveyor that usually rides to work but today, it’s raining in the Diamantina for a change.

His 1995 Seat Cordoba has been left parked under a spotted gum for the past four weeks. The four-door saloon car has been left out in the rain, left out in the baking sun and now, the 43-year-old wants it to go first go.

“But how dare they?” he said to The Advocate, who was on hand to help Mr Greenslade scoop all the dead leaves from under the windscreen.

“It might not go now but I haven’t driven it for a month.”

As he opened the driver’s door, a loud slooshing could be heard.

“Oh, this always happens,” he said.

He pulled the foam lining from the bottom of the door and looked for the drain. Using a small stick, he shimmed the door drain open and a steady stream of stagnant rainwater drained from the door.

“Let me just check the other doors.”

After confirming that both the rear passenger doors were full of water, Wal delighted in finding the passenger door didn’t have seven kilos of water trapped in it.

“Now, cross your fingers.”

Wal turned the key to the first stage of the ignition. The dash lit up and the aftermarket Sony system started to bong at him.

“This is a good sign,” he laughed.

“Hope it goes.”

Wal turned the key and nothing happened. He sighed.

“Can you hit the starter with the tyre iron while I turn the key? The voltmeter on the dash reckons there 12ish volts in the battery. Plus, this has happened before.

Unfortunately for our reporter, the starter motor is more under the car than on top of it so under they went with a tyre iron in hand.


After a few light bashes, a sickly cloud of blue smoke shot from the exhaust pipe as the Seat coughed to life.

“Cheers mate,” said Wal.

“It might take a little while to warm up but she’ll go.”

He then revved the absolute guts out of it, all the way up to the redline.

The street was filling with a white smoke at idle, mixed with great billows of blue when he pushed the cold engine to its absolute limits.

“I can’t believe those cunts thought this thing was fucked. I’d happily take it to Perth.”

More to come.

Author: Stephen Bailey