Oh Bronco, we hardly knew ye.  Yep, it happened.  I decided to take the ol'  girl out for a night on the town (ok, a day on the farm) when  she just started giving up.  Brake lines blew as we tried to slow down on the  hill, eventually rolling to a stop.  Then, like out of a b-movie horror flick,  the scream of a wide open throttle body filled my ears as I shut her down to  spare us the agony of the inevitable.  It was too late, the damage was done.   The lifeblood flowed from every gasket and seal.  Her emblems will forever be  displayed in my garage, a reminder of our good times together.  But all is not  lost, my buddy who helped haul her away and asked for a couple parts.  I  obliged, then inquired.  The horns are going into his hotrod!  The body may have  died, but the voice lives on!
 A reply to a certain someone who laughingly quipped "Ooh, are you sad your  Bronco went bye-bye?"...I've had that thing longer than you, woman.   Check-and-mate.  Did I give it away who it was?  Nah.
 Good bye old friend.
 
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