I wouldn't even want that on my bench. Something may crawl out of it and bite me.
I've had the same thought with some old gear.
I've had the same
thought HAPPEN with some old gear.
And I'm not talking my days in the appliance shop, where you get used to keeping a big spray bottle of Zep within reach whenever you open up a washer or dryer... I've been bit by centipedes, scorpions and brown recluse. Found a dead black widow in a VCR once... you better believe I jumped back when I flipped that little critter over while brushing out the corner of the case. For hours, every time I closed my eyes I'd see that shiny red hourglass.
Of course, none of that compares to my ol' 55 Nomad; it had a nest of yellow jackets that filled half the spare tire compartment, and I didn't discover it until vibration from the motor woke the nest the fist time I started the old beast. I was totally engrossed with finessing the gas pedal to keep it running when I swatted away something buzzing next to my ear.
That hornet picked itself up and stared me down from atop the dash, moving its head the way they do. Then I spied the cloud of wings in the rear view mirror, realized what what going on and bolted like a jackrabbit for the porch across the driveway. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~>
The car idled roughly, but kept running for more than half an hour before I choked it to death and pulled a battery terminal.
That was the beginning of a beautiful "car and her boy" love story; but that's a tale for another time.
mnem
She was also the only Chevy I ever got along with.