About a month ago I was driving to my mothers house late at night on a Friday evening. It was pitch black, so I had the head lights on full beam, and I was driving along a country road when all of a sudden my engine cut out. So I pulled over and got out to have a look. Sometimes I can fix these things myself. It was very dark, and I could not get images from all the horror movies I have ever seen out of my head.
Now I am pretty used to being on my own and to scary situations. You would be amazed just how often I find both of those things happening during my time managing escort agencies and working with the sexiest girls who escort Ibiza visitors but this was a spooky situation even by my standards. And it was about to get even worse. Oh goodie.
I was looking under the bonnet when I heard a voice, all ethereal and spooky.
“Check your spark plugs.”
I looked around and I could not see anyone or anything, so I ignored it, turned the torch to a different angle and kept checking the engine.
“Check your spark plugs” came the voice again, and I looked around again and could still not see anyone. So I ignored it, but was getting more uncomfortable by the minute.
“Check your spark plugs!” came the voice, louder now and I turned to see a white horse looking at me from afield. And then lo and behold it opened its mouth and spoke “It is your spark plugs. You should check them.”
I was more than a bit shaken by this but I checked my speak plugs as suggested, and sure enough that was the problem. I replaced the broken ones and was on my way – quite glad to be away from the creepy hell hole and the talking horse.
I pulled into a bar a mile up the road. I was really quite shaken by the whole thing. The combination of the darkness and being stuck there was quite scary. The bar man asked me if I was feeling alright. I looked a bit pale, so I told him my story about the horse and mt car breaking down. Everyone was around the pub listened in and when I was finished the bar man said,
“Hmmm. You are lucky it was not the black horse” he sounded terribly ominous and garnered murmurs of agreement from the crowd in the bar.
“Wh…why is that?” I asked.
“The black horse knows bugger all about cars.”
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