About a month ago I was driving to my mothers house late on a Friday evening. It was pitch black, so I had the lights on high beam, and I was driving along a country road when all of a sudden my engine cut out. So I pulled over and got out to have a look – sometimes I can fix it myself. It was very dark, and I couldn’t get all those horror movies out of my mind, bad things happen on roads at night.
I was looking under the bonnet when I heard a voice, all ethereal and spooky.
“Check your spark plugs”
I looked around and I couldn’t see anything so I ignored it and kept checking the engine.
“Check your spark plugs” came the voice again, and I looked around and couldn’t see anyone. So again I ignored it, but I was getting more uncomfortable by the minute.
“Check your spark plugs!” came the voice louder now, and I turned around to see a white horse looking at me from a field. And lo and behold it opened its mouth and spoke: “Its your spark plugs, you should check them.”
I was a bit shaken by this but I checked my spark plugs and sure enough, that was the problem. I replaced the broken ones and was on my way – quite glad to be away from that creepy hellhole.
I pulled into a pub a mile up the road, I was really quite shaken by the whole thing. The combination of the darkness and being stuck there was quite scary. The barman asked me if I was feeling alright, I looked a bit pale, so I told him my story about the horse and my car breaking down. Everyone around the pub listened in and when I was finished the barman said:
“Hmm, you’re lucky it wasn’t the black horse” awful ominously, to murmurs of agreement from the people around.
“Wh…why’s that then?” I asked. The barman replied.
“He knows fuck all about cars”