"The definitive collection," I agree.
WeenerMan frowns and reaches into his mechanical bag and pulls out a stethoscope.
Your kidding?" I reply.
"Just shut up, get in Rodney and turn the engine over," Weenerman says sternly, "We have a delicate operation ahead of us."
"Right," I shrug, slide in, and turn the motor over.
The car seems to start, run awhile, and then sputters out.
HM Weenerman carefully moves the stethoscope along the valve cover and to various spots over the fuel infjector assembly.
And then he does something really off the map, and takes out a compact box with dials and digiatal readouts on the face and hooks it with alligator clips into the circuitry. He then sticks a metal probe in various points of the car motor and seriously considers the latest readout on the scanner.
"You sure learned a lot in your one week at the community college," I remark quickly.
"Shhh," Weener-man says seriously, "I’m taking its temperature."