Write me a short story about a teenage boy buying a broken car from an unpleasant man. The man is gross, older, and not very intelligent in the way he speaks. His lawn is unsightly and the teenager tries to not be rude but is highly critical of the man and his lawn. Write the story in first-person perspective from the view of the teenage boy. Title the story "The Broken Lawn Ornament".
The Broken Lawn Ornament

"There's only one thing wrong with the car," the musty old man in the dingy and stained undershirt told me. "It don't go."
"What?" I don't know if I had misheard the crotchety old geezer who smelled of an acrid mixture of sweat, cigars, and sauerkraut or had completely missed the context of his wheezy statement.
"The car, it don't start. Engine's broke," he repeated slowly, as though he considered me to be yet another stupid young person. I asked why it was for sale then.
"Because it can get fixed. If it's fixed, it works. 'Sides, it's been cluttering up my lawn. Makes it look bad."
I looked over at the immobilized hunk of metal on tires parked in the guy's front yard like an overgrown lawn ornament. Long, scraggly patches of grass grew around the tires. The lawn itself was sparse and patchy. Weeds grew unbidden and overwhelmed the grass in several parts of the yard.
A cynical smile played on my lips. I successfully fought it off along with a raised eyebrow. The yard was hardly a bragging right since it was plagued with scattered bald patches and where the grass did grow, it was in desperate need of a cut. Peeking out from the prairie-like dumpy lawn were pieces of what I expected to be dog crap.
I shrugged, making the old man raise a graying eyebrow that was as overgrown as his lawn.
"You want it or not?"
"Yes," I pulled my wallet out of my pocket and randomly wondered how many plastic pink flamingoes and garden gnomes I could get for the price of my "new" car.