The Honest Version

Mechanic: So I've had a look at your car. The good news is, it'll start. The bad news is, it shouldn't.

Wendy: That's not very reassuring.

Mechanic: It's an honest job. You want the honest version or the nice version?

Wendy: Honest. Roughly how much are we talking?

Mechanic: Approximately eight hundred. Could be less if the part's in stock, could be more if it isn't.

Wendy: Eight hundred. The car's only worth a thousand.

Mechanic: I'd advise against the repair, then. If you spend eight hundred on a thousand-pound car, you'll have a very annoying day.

Wendy: So what should I do?

Mechanic: Honestly? If I were you, I'd drive it gently until it dies, then buy something with a brand name you can trust.

Wendy: You're a mechanic telling me not to fix my car.

Mechanic: I know. It bothers me too. But if I take your eight hundred pounds today, you'll be back in here in March, and then you really won't like me.

Wendy: All right. I'll think about it.

Mechanic: You do that. And drive slowly. The car can hear you.