The pre-surgery vehicle inspection on which he wanted me to sign off was so cute. You know, where they have to note dings and dents so people don't try to hoodoo them and get preexisting conditions corrected on their dime. He had done so industriously.
"Dude, it's over a dozen years old and has, like, almost 200,000 miles on it. It's been hit everyplace but the ashtray; if it'd give you a giggle to put another little dimple in the fender, knock yourself out."