Someone Wants Me Dead.

So this past weekend I helped Nicole move into her new apartment. The place is awesome and it was lots of fun. She and I were running errands picking up small essentials, and getting some lunch when we both noticed the wierd things my car was doing. It seemed to be experiencing a severe loss in power. I really had to rev it to get it to move. Anyway, we made it home without too much trouble. Later that day, which is to say that evening, she and I, along with her roommate Desiree went to pick up a money order for the rent that they owed. This was a small adventure in itself, but was made precarious by my now fragile feeling car. It felt to be on the verge of collapse. Later on, during the drive back to my own apartment, when I'm about 2 miles from home, the check engine light comes on and I couldnt get more than 40 mph out of the engine. The next day, Monday, I took it into the repair shop in the early morning. The mechanic pops the hood takes one look at the engine and says 'Someone cut one of your ignition cables.' I look inside and sure enough, its looks mightily like some took scissors to one of the four ignition cables. Not that I noticed when I looked at the engine the day before. Anyway, he makes a phone call and 30 minutes later the parts are delivered, installed, paid for, and I'm leaving the shop with my car happy to be working at 100% again. Here are the pictures of the cable, for your inspection.

NOTE: The longer cable is now stretched, as my roommate Harry and I each took a side and tried to rip it apart. It was a very scientific experiment and yielded a very dangerous conclusion: Someone wants me dead.

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