The Saga At The Garage

The next day after work, Jamole rode his scooter to a car dealer nearby town. At first glance, the thick , short Indian who was the car dealer raised a furious gaze at Jamole, staring at his unkempt looks and wondering what a ragged dude like him had come to do.

Quickly he prepared his mind to repel him because the person he saw couldn’t afford a square meal let alone a Porsche.

The Indian stared around; his security wasn’t on seat and he would have to fight tooth and nail to repel this ragged unshaven fellow.

Jamole caught sight of Rolls Royce Cullinan, Bentley Bentaya and Porsche Panamera. They had all of the those cars in their garage at the villa but the Porsche caught his fancy.

The red interior was his wife’s favorite color and the red allow wheel touched his soft spot in a more thrilling way.

“I think I love that Porsche. I got to buy it,” he said in his mind and began to advance towards the Indian , who had already stood up with an iron rod handy.

The Indian got himself armed
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