Come in 77, your time is up.

Somewhere near us there is an unofficial demolition derby being run. There used to be one near where I lived on the other Coast. One Sunday a month people would turn up in old heaps that had an afternoon of life left in them, and they would race around a paddock, winner or sole survivor would get a box of beers and much glory.
We would dearly love to have a little "chat" with the driver of No 77. He abandons his wrecks on our road. I have to cart them to the tip.