I had a buddy (rest his soul) who owned a Jag which never met a repair shop it didn't like to visit (often). "Having this car is like being married to Raquel Welch but with her having an incurable STD (more colorful term omitted)" he once said. Final straw was on the way to Hilton Head when smoke started pouring out from under the hood. He begged the volunteer fire department to let it burn itself out on the road shoulder. No shotguns were harmed in the fire.