‘Ya gotta love European luxury,’ said Macka. One hand on the steering wheel. The other resting on the gearstick. Headlights slashing through the misty-grey fog, producing a tunnel-like vision of the shiny motorway ahead. ‘I feel like King-of-the-road in this car.’

‘I’m hearin’ ya,’ said Robbie. Wearing the standard blue-collar grunge, this car whispered white-collar-royalty, with Robbie truly embracing the moment. Nose in the air, he waved like the Queen of England. His body perfectly cocooned in the passenger seat, admiring the sumptuous leather detailing, ‘this is the best chair on the planet! Seriously, this chair belongs in my lounge-room. It’s even got that new car smell…’ complete with stale aftertaste at the back of his throat. Adjusting the vents, the air brushed against his ruddy cheeks like a warm summer’s breeze. A welcoming break from the external wintery night. ‘You can’t hear the outside world,’ watching the traffic pass them by. ‘There’s no rattles. No engine noise.’

‘I know right. It’s like we’re in a travel-bubble,’ said Macka, nodding slowly while manoeuvring the prestigious vehicle into the misty back streets of suburbia.

‘So whose car is it?’ Poking at the many buttons, dials and gadgets on the centre console.

‘It’s no ones,’ replied Macka.

‘What’d’ya mean, no one’s?’ asked Robbie.

‘No one was there when I found her. An’ she just sung to me…’ tenderly stroking the side of the door.

‘You on somethin’ Macka?’ Who seemed to be feeling-up the car like it was a pet dog.

‘No,’ frowning slightly. Then slowly caressing the steering wheel, Macka said, ‘She had this song playing on her stereo “Jump-in-my-car…”’

‘STOP! Don’t you dare sing to me?’ Thankfully halting Macka mid-gasp. Robbie shaking his head, leaned forward opening the glove box in front of him, ‘there’s no papers?’ tapping inside the empty compartment, ‘you’d expect there’d be some manual? Even rentals have advertisin’ crap in their cars. Everyone has some rubbish in their cars. Like receipts, chip packets, chewing gum wrappers…’ Twisting around to the back seat that was completely empty. No dirt on the carpet. No prints on the windows. This car was brand spanking new. ‘Seriously Macka, where’d ya get it?’

‘In the park and there she was…’ gently patting the dash before him, ‘…all alone. Door openu. Engine running. Stereo singing to me. I reckon I’ll keep her!’

‘Seriously!’ Robbie’s jaw dropped, his eyebrows raised, staring at Macka.

‘Reckon I’ll drive her round for a bit.’

‘Cops’ll be lookin’ for it,’ watching Macka all blasé enjoying this cruise.

‘Err – Why?’

‘Duh!’ Robbie pushing one palm to the ceiling, the other hand gripped the door. Bracing himself – he waited.

‘Shit! We’re in a STOLEN CAR!’ Macka slamming both work-boots onto the foot-break. The car screeching to a halt in the middle of the street.

Flinging both front doors open, the two men immediately jumping out and swiftly bolting into the night.

Leaving the car all alone. Doors open. Engine running. Lights on. Stereo singing…