Requiem for Pie Hef

A part of my teenage life is dying. It's not a part I particularly enjoyed at the time, in fact I sometimes hated it. But somehow, hearing that it's passing is imminent, is bring up all these fond memories. Pie Hef, or Land Yacht as it is also known, was my friend Laura's car. It was a very very big blue car, with bald tires, scratchy speakers, and very poor control available. It's name Pie Hef came from the fact that it's license plate was 314 HEF, 3.14 being the first 3 digits of pi. It's other name, Land Yacht came from the fact that in sheer size it resembled a boat more then a car.
It slid on dry surfaces, and on snow or icy surfaces it was essentially a death trap. It would break down often, at very bad times. Sometimes it would randomly start spewing smoke into the car through the vents. It had a gas gauge that read inaccurately so you were never sure how much gas you had left. But it was always available, unlike our parents cars, and it, EVENTUALLY, got us from point A to C, breaking down at B of course.
Two specific memories come to mind:
The first is a general one, in the winter Pie Hef would take forever to actually start and once that happened it would take forever to create heat. The 1st half hour of sitting in the car would be almost equivalent to standing outside the car.
The second is more specific. It was summer some random number of years ago. Laura and I decided to take a drive somewhere, and as we sped along the highway, a grayish green smoke started to come in through the vent. I guess the car was overheating, so we rolled down our windows on the highway and cranked the fans into the car to try to cool the car down as we sped towards a repair centre.

Pie Hef, we barely knew ye.

"Pie Iesu Domine, dona eis requiem. Dona eis requiem sempiternam"