Autogeddon

A couple of weeks ago I drive happily into a Tesco garage, fill up, and within 1 second of driving out of the forecourt the car starts stuttering and juddering. The part of my brain that likes to store useful information away, but in the wrong box, suddenly pulled out the sheet of paper that read "Tesco have been selling dodgy fuel! It's been in the news for weeks you dolt!". The part of my brain that likes to swear sprung into action . . . .

My poor car crawled around for a couple of days until I booked it into a garage. I called Tesco and they confirmed that that garage on that day did have the demon fuel. Oh dear.

Time passes . . . .

My car is fixed! Trouble is, the garage have found that the ignition coil was playing up, there was a faulty spark plug lead and an oil leak. Nothing to do with fuel whatsoever.
Oh and my brakes disks were as thin as a supermodel in a car-crusher, and the suspension was like a kangeroo on e-numbers. And would you like this bill for £500?

Just my luck to have a car that will run on the nastiest fuel, but decides to go pop seconds after filling up with the stuff.