2013 Fiat 500c Abarth
|Season||The Early Years|
|Air Date||September 23, 2013|
Why did the Fiat 500 fail to unseat the Mini? Does THE JOKE have something to do with it? True story: the owner of this 500 Abarth was in traffic somewhere near the Walt Whitman. A bum was going from car to car, asking for change. He gets to this Abarth and asks @barkerdk, "what kind of car is this?"
@barkerdk tells the bum. The bum instantly responds with THE JOKE.
Thank you @barkerdk for driving up to meet me, It was fun to review our first "cool car." His Twitter Page is here: https://twitter.com/barkerdk
This is a 2013 Fiat 500C. And no matter how well you pronunce the last name, someone's gonna tell you you're doing it wrong. --- INTRO SONG: "East Side Beat" by The Toasters --- MONOLOGUE by MR REGULAR People who drive the 500 Abarth make money, but no one really knows what they do. They could own three sub shops in Chatsworth, a consulting firm in Westlawn or maybe a towing company in Fishtown. They all wear general purpose polo shirts and Wayfarers, they're happy to see you but they're constantly checking their watch. This is a micrometer. I use it to test valve shims and- (picture of a zipper on blue jeans, captioned "Don't lie. You've done it.") The distance between the valve cover which isn't really a valve cover, it's part of the airbox, is 14.79 millimeters! The distance between the turbo shroud and the airbox which isn't really the airbox, it's more of a resonator thing, is 32.74 millimeters. The customized car scene has ruined steering wheels. Some chinstrap super senior with a bong loaded with Salvia got an idea in 2005: zip-ties Logitech Force Feedback wheel to his Nissan Sentra. Then, some gas station street tuner magazine ran a story about him. Then every cul de sac OG toss their comfortable steering wheels for something with pistol grips. AAAAND NOW manufacturers do it. The back seat armrests have speakers, so that your kids have no choice but to listen to Innerpartysistem. And if you put the top down, you can't see out the back. Oh wait, wait wait wait wait, stop a second, stop a second! Mh, mh, mh, mh, mh, Bubble Yum, Dubble Bubble, Bubble Tape! Ha, fake exhaust pipes! And a fake rear... whatever this is. Ha, your headlights say "500". How many times does this medallion [Abarth logo] boast? One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. Your tires have a web address! The engine is a one point- who cares, which makes more horsepower than this [Mr Regular's Toyota Echo]. The turbocharger is always whistling at hot girls, but only gets the attention of other duuudes. The thing is, you're cool when you drive a 500 Abarth, because it strikes the perfect mix of masculine and feminine features. And that slightly makes most guys angry, because this car is the waify thin guy who wears a horizontally-striped long sleeve T-shirt, a permanent sour look on his face and he has a nice girlfriend with big jugs! How? Now, there's a tax on Fiats in North America. You will pay it every third parking lot, every third fill-up and every single car meet. You're gonna pay this tax. And the tax is... The Joke. Every beer garden, every friend of a friend, every looky lewd and every traffic officer thinks he's the first to come up with it. He's gonna say it, and they're gonna say it, and you're gonna be checking your watch and when are they gonna say it. Here it comes, here comes a Joke, they're gonna tell The Joke with the same hubris as a deadbeat dad whistling at college girls in Wildwood. Here it comes. Here comes The Joke. Just say it, just say it, just say it- [stupid voice] Do you know what Fiat stands for? FIX. IT. AGAIN. TYRONE. [/stupid voice] --- OUTRO (Mr. Regular opens a book, "The Riverside" by Chaucer.)