Well, all right, since Unca Joel brought up Friday first, since many of
you probably won't read this until tomorrow anyway, and since the object
of this story has more than just a passing resemblance to early VWs (at
least in function and, if squinting, in form too), I'll post this today.

Some years ago I saw this in a newsgroup; copied and posted without
permission, blah, blah, blah.  Here goes...

---
As we were talking about 2CVs, I thought I'd post in a letter to the
editor of "Classic and Sportscar", the English mag.  Excerpt posted
without permission.

[This guy owned a 1956 2CV, he talks about the mechanicals and then...]
"The memory that really keeps me awake at night is that of having it
fully wound up downhill with a following wind, when I encountered a
large bump.  The suspension flatly refused to live up to its name, and
the wheels disappeared upwards.  The chassis hit the ground, and
flexed: whereupon both doors flew open and broke their check straps,
mine falling off into the road.  The roof became detached and flew
backwards like a flag, tearing out the rear window.  The backs of both
seats, already weak, broke completely.  I had the steering wheel to
hang on to, but the last I saw of my passenger was his feet somewhere
near the windscreen.  When we disentangled ourselves, I was approached
by the driver of the car behind me, carrying my concave door: with
tears in his eyes, he apologised for running over it, but he had been
unable to avoid it as he had been laughing so hard."
---

And so it goes.  Brings tears to my eyes every time I read it, so
apologies for any typos.  Anybody who has ever had the fortune to drive
in a deux-chevaux (2CV to you anglophones) will have no trouble
visualising the picture painted by this guy...

Joachim
--
I'm not an engineer, but I play one at work.