140 bricks

Surprisingly, some long and detailed carb tuning, involving a lot of guesswork and a real seat-of-the-pants touch, reduced Faye Valentine's life-threatening illness to a mild cough in the morning and some slight issues maintaining sufficient breath at some occasional inconvenient intersections ('puff-puff, Faye-Faye' -Ed). An added bonus to this this unexpected surge of new life is drastically less tailpipe smoke, partly from a much leaner fuel mixture, and partly from dumping half a bottle of 'Tune-up in a Can' into the engine oil *shudder*. I know that stuff is evil, and murder on an engine, but I guess she is more or less beyond feeling pain at this point. She will probably linger in the twilight of her years for some time, beautiful to the end, and at long last (hopefully months and months from now) she will pass away quietly in the night when no one is around. And in the meantime, I have roughly an 87% chance of making it to class and back for the rest of this semester. But it's okay, I'll chance it. Because it's Faye: 'hottest granny in the galaxy!'