Toad of Toad Hall . . .

remember the 9TS's pride and joy . . . the car he wouldn't let me drive except under dire circumstances . . . the very same car that died in the driveway and broke his heart . . . the one that was a pace car for one of the oodles of races at the speedway in 2005 and that I could be shot on sight for not remembering which? Yeah, that car.

It was a lean mean lease machine and its visit with us was almost up. For months the 9TS has been searching the net, sniffing out this car and that. Website after website. Delirium. He checked out all the two seaters made. Fell in love with a Z. Sniffed out Chargers. Flirted with Audis and Cadillacs.

The only problem? We desperately needed four seats for four bottoms, in one car . . . not four seats spread between two cars. And so Thursday, we jaunted off for a mere look see at the Chrysler 300. Look see meaning just that. Look and See and Leave. Next thing I know, the 9TS has that gleam in his eye . . . the one reminiscent of that speed loving Toad from Wind in the Willows.

(credits: The Comic Treadmill)

There was no stopping him. His quest for power over rode all sensibilities. Hours later, he was the proud owner of a silver ship sailing the sea of the streets.

My little roadster is now quivering in the garage . . . afraid of being squished like the jelly bean it is by the monster wedged in beside it.

But the sloth is a happy camper and when it comes right down to it, what else is there?