Beast has been at the spa for over a week now and I'm starting to get twitchy—it won't be ready for nearly another week.
Apparently a critical part does not exist anywhere in this hemisphere (that would be either the northern or western, take your pick) so a new one is currently being hammered out in a fiery forge by a team of Bavarian gnomes (maybe from the Human G-nome Project or something) deep in the heart of the Black Forest over a fire fueled with first-edition Faulkner novels, hundred-dollar bills and Cuban cigars.
As I understand it, when they're done forging they have to quench it in the blood of a virgin, and they're having some trouble with that part of the process. Long story short: It's me and the Jack Russell for another while.
I wish that just for once, the Germans wouldn't insist on over-engineering everything...