A couple of weeks have passed, and I am going absolutely mad.

Everything is ready. The gaskets are here. The bolts are here (the correct ones, this time). The tools are lined up. The plasma cutter is waiting. And the last body piece for the conversion, the one part without which none of this can begin, is not here. It is somewhere between a warehouse and my doorstep, taking its time, enjoying the scenery, in absolutely no rush whatsoever.

So I wait. Which, if you know me at all by now, is not something I do well.

I've spent the downtime researching. PowerNation have some excellent videos on how to keep the chassis structurally sound before you start cutting, using profiles and bracing so the whole thing doesn't fold like a deckchair the moment you take a saw to it. Useful stuff. The kind of homework that separates a conversion from a catastrophe. But watching videos about cutting metal is not the same as cutting metal, and after two weeks of preparation I am running out of things to prepare.

So I did something useful. The spark plugs.

I finally swapped them out, and judging by the condition of the old ones, they'd been in there for somewhere between fifty thousand and five hundred thousand miles. It's anyone's guess. They were fouled, the fuel wasn't burning cleanly, and the whole engine had been running like it was apologising for something. Fifteen minutes of work, and the difference was immediate. No more power loss. No more hesitation. The thing actually runs like a V8 now, which is encouraging because it is one.

One of the regulars here, asked a fair question: if you're tearing the whole car apart and replacing the engine anyway, why bother with spark plugs?

Simple. I still drive the car. This isn't a museum piece sitting on jack stands waiting for a restoration that may or may not happen. I live with it. I take it out. I test things between sessions. And until the new engine goes in, the old one needs to work. That's just the deal.

Some user has been checking in regularly, which I appreciate. "Any progress? How's it going?" He's asking what everyone's thinking. The answer, for now, is: almost. The last piece arrives Monday. Cutting starts next weekend.

Not everyone is convinced, mind you. One commenter suggested I might be suffering from "delusions of grandeur," which is a perfectly reasonable diagnosis and one I cannot entirely rule out. But then other called this kind of build "double tough" and said there's no way he'd even consider it, which felt like a compliment wrapped in a warning. And other, who actually did his own coupe-to-fastback conversion, said his only regret was not doing a build thread. So at least someone who's been through it thinks this is worth documenting. That'll do for now.

While the last part takes its holiday, I've started stripping the interior. Seats out. Gas tank out. Carpets out. Ceiling fabric out. Mapping the structural elements, which in my case aren't welded together, so every joint needs to be understood before anything gets cut. It's methodical, quiet work. The kind of thing that doesn't photograph well but matters enormously once the saw comes out.

And one small victory. Remember the humming noise from the first episode? The one that survived every bearing replacement I threw at it? Rear wheel bearing. That's all it was. Ordered the replacement from CJ, because apparently I enjoy the pain. I'll fit it at some point during the transformation, assuming the transformation ever starts.

The last piece arrives Monday. Next weekend, I cut.

Wish me luck. Actually, wish me patience. I've used up most of what I had.