The aggressive body shop

Chris drove his black Honda Prelude to the body shop for a touch-up on its paint job. It was looking a bit scruffy after years on the road.

He drove the Prelude to the shop, dropped it off, and left in a rental provided by the dealership. The techs drove the Prelude to the back and started sanding it down.

"Oh my", thought the car as the workers started removing its clearcoat.

After that was done, the workers started looking around and tutting to themselves. "Yeah, the base coat's pretty shot, a lot of orange peel. We'll have to sand that off, too."

The Prelude blushed as the thought occurred to it of what was about to happen. With more sandpaper, everyone went to work exposing the poor car's primer.

After all was said and done, the car blushed as it realized that its undercoat was showing. "Yeah, no wonder the color was way off. Whoever applied this primer did a terrible job and owes the customer a refund. It'll all have to go!" The car's heart sunk as it realized what exactly that meant. It could do nothing but grin and bear it as the detailers sanded off the last of its dignity.

"That's much better!" said the lead as the car's bare sheet metal was exposed for all to see. The Prelude felt the shop's cool air breeze by its body panels. "Oh well," it thought, "this will at least all be over soon."

"Hey John," the shop's manager told the lead, "the shop's closing up soon. Take any projects in the garage for the night."

The Prelude groaned as John drove it into the garage with all of the other cars. Although the cars were all here for a touchup, they all had most of their paint still on them, with only small regions sanded down even just a little bit. This stood in marked contrast to the nude Prelude, its bare aluminum exposed for all the other cars to stare and gawk through the night.