ŠKODA

To the fine people at ŠKODA,

I have always been a fan of the outstanding auto-mobiles that your company has graced us with. Even when you lost some of your credibility by being taken over by the inferior VW, I still held faith that you would not tarnish your world class reputation by engineering anything less than the pinnacle of metal boxes with wheels on. Unfortunately, as you have surely noticed, this letter isn’t being written to the compliments department, which for some strange reason your company lacks. I am writing to you because recent events have led me into police custody.

It all started a little over a week ago. My previous car, which I am ashamed to admit was not a ŠKODA, was crashed into by a reversing tree and crumbled under the impact. Do not fret, I was unharmed in the incident, but it served to remind me that I should not rely on inferior products. So, with that in mind I set about buying the latest ŠKODA Citigo. Like any reasonable person with more sense than money, I purchased the latest model on finance, which was a steal at the price.

I was not disappointed. The engine purrs like a kitten in a bath tub of milk (don’t ask), the air conditioning took me back to the time I was locked in an air tunnel and the suspension is so light and bouncy, that christening the car with my wife was more a pleasure than the frantic tangling of limbs that she usually complains of.

After a couple of days of sitting in the car pretending I was a race car driver, while my wife tried to find an insurer that would insure me; I took it out for its virgin flight. I have never had a car with cruise control before so I was a bit apprehensive to use it on the way to work. Although after I was sent home early for trying to eat my bosses sandwich, while he was still holding it, I thought I’d give it a try.

I was returning home at that annoying time of day when the schools have closed and you have reckless mothers clogging the roads. I was singing along to Celine Dion when ahead of me I noticed her, a fine example of a woman, averaging 20 stone and squeezed into a tight fluorescent jacket, lollipop in hand. She was helping some children cross the road and in that moment I saw my opportunity to impress her with my new ride. I switched to cruise control and the car continued unassisted at 50mph. I’d got her attention. I took my hands off the wheel and gave her a confident smile. Knowing that the ‘city safe’ automatic-brake function would seal my dramatic entrance into her life, I gave her a wink and raised my knees to my ears.

It’s hard to recollect what happened next as the swift release of the air bag clouded my vision, but the aftermath I had left behind me was something I’ve never seen before. Now don’t get me wrong, being a huge Michael Bay fan I have seen many an impressive car crash but not like this. Needless to say, the police arrived on the scene shortly after and discovered me kissing and caressing my once beautiful car.

Now I find myself in a police cell writing this letter. I wanted to write to you because I understand that as legal aid is being sold to private companies like Eddie Stobbart I should write to you and ask whether you would be so kind as to send me a solicitor. A haulage company solicitor doesn’t seem appropriate given the circumstances. Also, I believe that there is a fault in the ‘city safe’ auto-brake function in your latest Citigo model. I would provide my number plate for reference but it is currently being removed from one of the ‘victims’. Before you gasp in shock/awe at my last comment you should rest assured that nobody died. A few limbs got muddled up or switched hosts but they’re mostly unharmed.

I look forward to hearing back from you and thank you for taking the time to read and consider my letter.

Always and faithfully yours,
Rev. Antagonist