Pancakes, anyone?

So I was (finally, after a thousand years) cleaning out my car a while ago, when I stumbled across something on the bottom of the back seat that made my day.  A lever.  I mean, sure, I'd seen this alleged lever plenty of times before, and I had feebly yanked on it for like 2 seconds in the past, but to no avail.  I concluded that it wasn't really a lever that performed any sort of function at all, but was probably there just for looks (which is crazy).  But this time, a little voice in my mind whispered "pull harder...and lift the seat up while you pull".  I know what you're thinking; I found the Hope diamond, or a trillion dollars, or Jimmy Hoffa (none of which would surprise me in my car).  But no.  To my amazement, the seat lifted up, and I was like

Froot Loops.  A million (a/k/a maybe 10 to 15) Froot Loops.  From 1972.  (Only I'm sure that they were technically Rootie Toots, or whatever ridiculously cheapo store-brand name there is), you know, cuz we're too poor to afford the *actual* fancy Froot Loop(TM) brand.

But anyway, I digress.  So I took the vacuum, rammed it down the crack, and gobbled up all the putrid, stale Froot Loops/Rootie Toots/whatevers with it.  I looked closer, and there were a few coins laying past there.  But as I excitedly reached my hand down into the crack to retrieve the riches (17 glorious cents -- hooray, I'll be able to afford MORE Rootie Toots!), to my horror, I realized that everything; the bits, particles & coinage was all trapped together in a virtually impenetrable, thick, syrupy layer of stickiness.

It was then that I realized that the rancid goo was most likely the source of the odd odor that I had all this time attributed to the fact that my car is 13 years old, and therefore, simply just stale.  (That, and the 57,000 farts that have been jam-powered into the seats after all these years might've also had a little something to do with it).  Maybe.  :/

So I stood there and mindlessly continued to allow the vacuum to greedily gobble up any more bits & particles that it would take, while I pondered how in the world to clean such a horrid mess.  About 30 seconds later, I decided

So, I moved to the other side of the car with the bloated vacuum, and continued to let it feast on the filth.  I thought to myself, "hey, I wonder if this side of the car has that same kind of cool lever that the other side of the car has"?  I looked down, and something was awry.  I immediately stopped the vacuum, and upon closer inspection, I noted that the magical lever was indeed present, however, for some very strange and unknown reason (that appeared to have been manufactured that way at the factory, which I think would be surprising for Honda), the lever was mysteriously trapped up behind a plastic panel, so that you couldn't really see it, much less move it.

So I tugged.  And I yanked.  I pried.  And I pulled.  And I'm weak as a wet noodle.  But I'm determined.  I knew that if I was even able to force the plastic panel into its proper position, that it would probably break, or otherwise mar or ruin it in some way that would be just my luck.  Then that same little voice in my mind came back and whispered "hey...psst...look; there are two little screws there holding this thing on".  Yeah, I had seen the screws, but I had assumed they would be some fancy, bizarre type that would only take something like a star, or a triangle, or a freakin' trapezoid-shaped-headed screwdriver that they only use in dang factories, and is apparently illegal to sell to the average person.

But no!  Much to my surprise, the screws were thankfully, regular old Philips-head-style!  So I went into the house and retrieved my girly pink toolkit, and got the screwdriver.  Then I figured that the screws had probably been screwed down by The Incredible Hulk on steroids with a hammer-drill in the dang factory, and there was probably no way in the world that weak me would be able to budge them with my girly pink screwdriver.  But like I said, I'm determined, so I tried it anyway.  And lo and behold, I easily got both screws out!  Finally, the moment of truth had arrived.  I gingerly maneuvered the plastic panel, and in a matter of moments was able to finally free the poor, trapped lever.  I excitedly screwed the screws sturdily back into place, and stepped back to admire my handiwork.

So I may have 10 gallons of mysterious, stale-smelling syrup under my back seats, but at least the lever, she is free!  :D