Dude, where is my Ute

As part of our colonial heritage Australia inherited and modified a version of rhyming slang. Being phonetically based one phrase can mean several things.
A few examples:
China / copper plate = Mate
Dead horse = sauce
Frog and toad = Road
Bag of fruit = Suit or Ute
Richard the third = turd
Harold Holt = bolt
As a kid, before a long car ride Dad might say (albeit only if he was an bad Oz version of one of the Ronnies or Benny Hill), "OK me ole China plate we need to Harold Holt, if you don't need a Richard the third jump in the bag of fruit and we'll hit the frog'n'toad "
With that in mind. Some low life drop punt swiped me bag of fruit; the one I drive not wear.

My ute is like having a high class hooker for a girlfriend. Always expensive, at times troublesome with a capital T but the fun is all caps, bold, large font F_U_N anytime, anywhere.

G's (forces)
Geeez? (wow)
&
Geeeesus! (shifaarrrkkkkk)

285Kw, 520Nm running through a 6 speed manual gearbox to a limited slip differential with the only traction control being your right foot and a desire to minimise the 235/40/18 tyres @ $520 a corner appearing as blue smoke in the mirrors. Every time it rained even the mellowest trip became like an advanced drivers course. The slighest combination of steering angle and accelerator would gaurantee wheel spin which would have the backend trying to swap places with front until the mechanical (no computers here either) LSD caught up.

The engine blew at 13,000kms requiring a rebuild under warranty and the diff went at 27,000kms. The bastards said the diff was due to driveline abuse (crap) and I had to pay. I was absolutely rabid at the time but as with any lose of a loved one you quickly forget the bad times and desperately yearn for the good.

On ode to me Bag of Fruit
She may be a ho, but she my ho Bro
Fill her full'o the good stuff and watch her go go go
She ain't just a straight liner she loves them curves
I'll sit ya in the passenger seat and wreck ya nerves

And stop, I tells ya, right on a bean
Have yo ugly mug squished up on the windscreen
Yer she's tempramental, one of the worst Divas
But she'd kick Makybe's arse over 3200 metres

You can hear her coming be it engine or brakes
Excited school kids point with their mates
Chicks might think with a ute I am good with my hands
This freekin hire car Corolla ain't helping that delusion man

Me old bag of fruit, she's gone now & I have to move on
While those stinking, loser criminals probably pull another bong
I hope the law catch 'em and throw the pricks away
While I'm cruising round in a bling bling BMW coupé

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To my knowledge Wiggam has not questioned Fat Tony or Snake regarding my distinct lack of ute. Reverend Lovejoy's wife was gossiping to anyone who'd listen suggesting Quimby had 'taxed' it for his spoilt "That's Chow-der Frenchy" nephew. Will the incompetence and corruption of police and government never end? I don't feel safe parking my car anywhere in Springfield. THINK ABOUT THE CHILDREN!