About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up to Creedon’s Transmissions with an urgent package. As he walked through the dimly lit garage, he heard a voice whispering from behind the workshop counter: ‘Don’t be in such a hurry…’ The delivery driver turned around slowly, but saw only empty shelves and dusty tools. Smiling sheepishly, he said, 'Guess I’m hearing things.' A voice from behind replied softly, 'Yup, that’s what they always say...' The next morning, everyone found out that Creedon had taken his weekly break early—with his radio tuned to old-timey talk shows.
2. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up to Creedon’s Transmissions with an urgent package. As he approached the counter, an old sign caught his eye: ‘If your engine purrs like a kitten, leave it here for free!’ Curious, he left the box and went inside—only to discover that every vehicle that had ever been fixed there now purred like a contented cat. A few days later, a delivery driver returned to pick up his package, only to hear a soft purr coming from under the hood. Smiling, he drove off into the night, wondering if maybe Creedon’s Transmissions was more magical than anyone knew. Meanwhile, a neighbor stopped by to drop off her car for routine maintenance—and found herself humming along with the happy engines.
3. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up to Creedon’s Transmissions with an urgent message for Mr. Creedon. ‘Boss,’ he whispered, ‘I’ve got something here that’ll make your hair stand on end!’ ‘What is it?’ asked Mr. Creedon curiously. The driver leaned in and whispered, ‘A ghostly transmission from your old high school buddy!’ Turns out it was just an old cassette tape of their band’s demo. Everyone had a good laugh, and the car repair continued as usual.
4. At dawn, when most mechanics were asleep, a strange noise echoed from Creedon’s Transmissions. A regular passing by heard it and stopped to investigate. Curious, he peered inside and saw an old mechanic, Creedon himself, humming softly as he worked on some ancient-looking engine. ‘Morning,’ said Creedon without turning around. The stranger cleared his throat. ‘What time do you usually start work?’ asked the curious passerby. Creedon grinned over his shoulder. ‘I never sleep.’