I had a car, that was in fact evil incarnate. It ate four transmissions, three engines, and managed to destroy six CV joints before the manufacturer put a lemon

I had a car, that was in fact evil incarnate. It ate four transmissions, three engines, and managed to destroy six CV joints before the manufacturer put a lemon wood stake through it's black, little, mechanical heart. It had a sixth sense. It knew exactly where to break down. It would bide it's time until you were at least eight miles from civilization, and had no cell phone coverage. Then it would seize up, with the engine frozen in gear, so you were left with the choice, stay with the car and wait for someone to help, or leave it, guaranteeing you'd have to pay for a tow and impound.