Epic fail

Hazel, the almost 4x4, has been in for her annual check up today. Everything was crossed as the overalled car doc examined all her working parts, prodded all openings, stuck sensors into various non organic openings. He consulted computers, workshop manuals, almanacs, tide tables and the Pirelli calendar before shaking his head and crossing the forecourt to the waiting area came to deliver the bad . "Do you off road" was the opening gambit and as I confirmed his supposition that yes indeed we do off road, twice everytime we want to on road he read from his very greasy but totally official clipboard a litany of faults that meant Hazel's time with us was limited as anything more useful than a scratching post for sheep unless we plied him with a seemingly endless supply of drinking vouchers.
Passengers side rear suspension spring had broken (that explained the rather exciting corner just outside Llanterwyd Wells on the way back from the further reaches of the Red Kite Empire) the back suspension units have given up (overloading with animal feed after Trixie died on the roadside, and other times no doubt, and before any wag makes a comment about my weight its not me) Drivers front tyre deep cut to cords (rocks in lane) passenger side front tyre same (oops, same stone on way back?) Brake calliper seized, rear passenger (thought I might have got him here, that was replaced a year ago, by him, well no, he did the other side last year) brake pads need replacing (wear and tear, honest) and a rubbish CD on the stereo.
I ignored his poor taste in music and asked how many pints it would take to fix Hazel.
Around 250 give or take cheese and onion crisps.
I left him to get on with it.
Hazel will return.