Trannies — Spewing

"Well," he sighed, wiping a smudge of grease off his forehead. "At least I won't need an oil change. There’s nothing left in there to change."

He popped the hood, only to be met by a fresh gout of smoke. The dipstick was pushed halfway out of its tube—the internal pressure had become so immense that the "tranny" had literally vomited its guts across the engine bay. spewing trannies

Elias pulled onto the narrow shoulder, the transmission grinding like a blender full of marbles. As the truck came to a halt, he stepped out into a haze of vaporized oil. Underneath the engine bay, a steady stream of red liquid hissed as it hit the pavement, forming a shimmering puddle in the gravel. "Well," he sighed, wiping a smudge of grease