Acoloutha: The substitution of reciprocal words; that is, replacing one word with another whose meaning is close enough to the former that the former could, in its turn, be a substitute for the latter. This term is best understood in relationship to its opposite, anacolutha.
I had a car—an automobile that broke down so frequently that they’d treat me really well at the repair shop. It seemed like something went wrong almost every week. This week, it was the red “check engine light.” It came on when I started the car. Today, I was going to actually check the engine before calling “Nuts and Bults” the place where I had my car serviced. I couldn’t figure out how to open the hood, so I called “Nuts and Bolts” to ask. Ray cautioned me. “You better be careful. When that light comes on, you never know what the hell’s going on under there.” I laughed and Roy told me how to open the hood. “There’s a lever under the driver’s side dash ear the door. Pull it down and the hood will pop. Then, there’s a second lever you pull on the hood on the outside and it’ll open.
When I went to pop the hood and open it with the outside lever, I heard something like techno music coming out from under the hood. I peeked into the gap between the hood and the grill and the music stopped. So, with a few trepidations, I threw open the hood. The music started again and there was a band of imps dancing on the air filter. It scared the total hell out of me. They were dressed in gold lame’ jump suits and boots. One of the female imps winked at me and beckoned me toward the air filter. I climbed up on the grill and dove into the air filter. When I hit it, I made a loud farting sound as I shrunk to imp-size almost immediately. I was wearing a gold lame’ jump suit and boots, and I was dancing with the imp girl who had beckoned to me. She took my hand and we climbed into the wheel well and up on top of the tire. We talked about our different worlds and I thanked her for giving me a glimpse of hers. Then, she left and I started to grow. I pretty much got out of the wheel well, but my lower leg got stuck. I called “Nuts and Bolts” and told them I got my leg stuck in the wheel well while I was checking under my hood because of the check engine light being lit. Roy told me he had warned me.
They took the tire off and my leg came loose. I have sworn that I will never check my engine again if the light comes on. I had a great experience under the hood, but once in a lifetime is often enough.
Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu)
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