My brother-in-law borrowed my brand-new crossover, trashed it like a garbage bin, and refused to cover the detailing costs—then had the nerve to call me that night, yelling, “How dare you?”

They came away wet.

“Sit in it.”

“What?”

“Sit down.”

Jake looked at the seat. “I’m not sitting there.”

“Why?”

“It’s soaked.”

“Exactly.”

He folded his arms. “It’s just a car.”

I photographed every stain.

“What are you doing?”

“Documenting your mess.”

Jake laughed. “I’ll take it somewhere cheap.”

“No. The seat is soaked, and the rear mat is lifting.”

“Then use your continue reading …