About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. At night, when the neon sign flickered on, a deep voice boomed over The Smog King's intercom: ‘Your engine’s singing a sad song—come sing along!’ Regulars shook their heads and laughed, but no one dared ignore that eerie invitation. One evening, an old delivery driver pulled up, muttering about his noisy exhaust. The ominous voice crackled: 'Finally found your rhythm!' As he walked in, everyone burst out laughing—he was humming along to his own tune. The Smog King fixed him up with a smile and a wink, saying only, 'Sing another day.'
2. At closing time, when the last customer left, an old dog would appear outside The Smog King. He’d sit by the entrance, staring intently at the mechanic’s tools hanging above the door. No one knew where he came from or why he kept coming back. One night, a delivery driver arrived late with a big smile on his face. ‘I brought you something,’ he said to the mechanic. Turns out it was a bone for that pesky dog—who promptly ignored it and went back to watching the tools. Since then, whenever someone mentions bones, everyone jokes that maybe he thinks those are treats too!’
3. Late every Tuesday afternoon, as customers waited for their cars to be fixed, a strange humming sound would come from behind the workshop doors. No one knew where it came from or what caused it, but soon everyone started calling it ‘the Smog King’s song’. One Tuesday, an old delivery driver named Mr. Jenkins asked the mechanic if he’d heard the latest tune. The mechanic shrugged and said, 'Nah, not today.' Later that evening, Mrs. Johnson next door mentioned she could hear it too—only it sounded like her vacuum cleaner. Turns out, it was just the radio in the office playing at full blast while nobody was around.
4. At dawn, before anyone else stirred in town, a shadowy figure emerged from behind the garage doors of The Smog King. With each turn of the wrench, a soft humming filled the air—a sound soothing yet mysterious, like a lullaby for engines. One morning, a delivery driver pulled up with a frowning face. ‘My truck won’t start,’ he groaned. The figure smiled enigmatically and nodded towards an old sign reading 'Open 24 Hours'. As the engine purred back to life, the driver turned around, only to see nobody but shadows leaving through the foggy streets. From then on, whenever someone’s car needed fixing, they’d whisper, ‘Just take it to The Smog King—even if you don’t see him, your engine will thank you.’