Dear George,

You bastard. All it was was the timing. But you sat on it and played dumb, treating me like an ass hole.

I spent hours under that 'lost cause.' You split your spin and swore. I listened to you whine about your woman. You treated me like a god damn son... a son you'll never have.

Didn't even ask for much money. Just enough to cover expenses... and some for your guilt.

When I banged on your door, you screamed and cursed and came out crutching, full of shame. You knew it was the timing all along, but couldn't bring yourself to let me go. You wanted to cash in but it killed you inside.

Now reluctant, laying with a cripple(a cripple yourself,) you curse about me. Despite everything, you'll be all right. Ill miss my mechanic though. Bye George.