Dear Owner Of This Car,
I know how it is. You wrapped that student film — I’m sorry, “indie feature” — on location near MacArthur Park last night and in deserving celebration downed seven too many craptinis at the Golden Gopher. Forget that you ended up parking like a Tardo McDipstick further blocking an already tight squeeze of a sidewalk. Really, forget about it. Because frankly what’s far more important is appreciating the miracle that you were able to get the fuck home in one piece without throwing up or killing anything. That is… other than that coyote you creamed coming up Edgecliff from Sunset.
No, you didn’t dream that, you really clobbered that sucker. But try not to stress, especially now as you’re heading into post production and your next stop is Sundance, baby! Seriously, I saw the whole thing and the pathetic creature was half-starved and on its last legs and you did it and the neighborhood a favor by putting it out of its misery. Bravo! And I already called animal control to come pick up the other pieces. But I kept the head because even though its minus the right eye it’s largely intact and I might try my hand at mounting it. I think it would look cool on the porch over the front door!
But for the remains that got stuck in your car’s undercarriage, I would sincerely recommend cleaning that up ASAP. All the matted and bloody gunk like the fur and viscera and entrails and such should come off with a good hosing, but the animal’s hindquarters and spine look like its wedged good and tight against the rear axle and the gas tank. The dog and I tried to yank it out this morning and its up in there good — but nothing a powertool can’t dislodge. A good reciprocating saw should do the trick. Whatever you do, don’t waste getting to it because it won’t be long before it decomps and stinks up the inside something hellacious. Trust me, I know!