Seriously, car. You couldn't let me get that ONE LAST FUCKING SCREW out? You let me get the other three out just fine, but for some reason, you had to dick me around with the fourth. I realize that we kind of hate each other, but I think we could come to some sort of amicable truce if you just stopped being a jerk to me. And if you're nice, I might even play something other than Bob Dylan covers over the speaker system.
(This has been a production of Parrot's Car Woes Theater.)