One should be able to fix one's car without BREAKING it even more

The BBQ Pit
1

Preface: I love my car. It drives great, it’s comfy, sound system is wonderful. No big problems with it. Very, very few little problems with it.

One such little problem: The headlight burnt out. No biggie… I spend eight bucks and get a new one. I quickly check the owner’s manual to see if it explains how to replace a burnt-out bulb. Oh, goody, it does. Off to Pep Boys I go.

Bring the new headlamp bulb home. Lift the hood. Pop open the manual. It says “Remove clips for splash guard” as step one (a big ol’ piece of plastic covering the radiator and a few other hoses and such at the front of the car… a lot of the stuff in a Grand Am is plastic). Okay. I spot the splash guard, I spot the clips… again, little plastic clips that one is, apparently, just supposed to pop in and out really quick, no need for screws.

So I pull on one of the plastic clips. Doesn’t budge. I pull harder. Doesn’t budge. I start worrying about breaking the sucker. I start examining closely, thinking that maybe I’m a dumbfuck that was missing something painfully obvious. Nothing that I can notice. I check the owner’s manual. “Remove the clips”, it says. “O Great and Powerful Owner’s Manual, how does a mere mortal such as myself remove the Awe-inspiring And Amazing Splash Guard Clips Of Doom?”

There’s a silence from the Great and Powerful Owner’s Manual. It stares down on me, an insignificent insect compared to its globe-shattering power. It opens its mouth. I think it’s going to give me the answer.

“REMOVE THE FUCKING CLIPS!!!” it bellows.

“HOW?!?” I bellow back, reactively. I instantly hush up, knowing not to use such rude tones in the presence of the Great and Powerful Owner’s Manual.

It glares at me. For a while, I think it’s going to smite me with thunderbolts or turn me into a frog… but it has pity.

“REMOVE THE GODDAMNED FUCKING CLIPS, YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF TRASH!!!” it screams. The force of its voice forces me to the ground.

So I grab the clip. I pull. I pull. One of my fingers starts to bleed. Pain is shooting through my body. I try odd angles, I try squeezing the pin, hoping that’ll make whatever’s holding it in release its Invincible Kung-Fu Grip. But no… I keep pulling, and pulling, and pulling…

::SNAP!!!::

So now I’m left with dirty, bleeding, sore fingers, a broken clip, and nine more of the vile, evil pieces of 50-cent plastic to go. And that’s only Step One.

Fuck this. I’m driving my mom’s car tonight.

2

You have my sympathies, Son. Kneel before Manny, say three hail Moes, and two Jacks, and go the the help aisle for a replacement clip. Go in peace. Bleed no more. Here ends the lesson.

3

Being a member of the Dodge race, I can’t speak effectively on your plight other than the idea of a specialized tool that will render the clips loosened. Occaisionally, you can substitute a pair of needle nose pliers for the proper tool if the part of the clip that does the actual retaining can be readily seen.

Other times, the plastic clips migrate from a very well known hot place of biblical origins to the front of your car. I have run into these clips from time to time and, find they can only be replaced after they are willfully destroyed.

Best to check with your local shop for any hints or, just tell the techs that work there to first check the trunk for a collection of aluminum tubes filled with a very precious liquid. They might just complete the job for you!