Yep. Probably like this: say you wanted to go for a nice Sunday drive to Kangaroo Valley, and it's taken you to Sussex Inlet (which is really boring). On the way back you get into an argument about who's the boss, who pays for the petrol, rego, tyres, etc. You end up punching its dash-board several times (a decision you later regret). It responds by blowing its horn and savagely jamming its breaks on every hundred meters or so. When you arrive home, you get out and it screams off in a cloud of smoke and burning rubber, sideswipes a truck at the end of your street, and collects a young mother of three who is walking across the road with a bag of groceries. She dies three days later of massive head and spinal injuries.
Meanwhile your car has crept back into your driveway, short-circuited it's own EFI and pretended to be out of action. You know your car is a killer, but how do you prove it?
Fortunately, forensic evidence shows that the car did in fact hit the young woman, but your car says that it was suffering from severe depression at the time and doesn't remember anything of the incident. Moreover, it alleges that you have been putting the wrong grade of oil into it for several months and that you purposely fill it up with E10 petrol in order to save money. It says it can't go on like this and just wants to go to the wreckers.
The court case is a long and ugly affair with claim and counter-claim.
It becomes obvious that the car has been acting in an erratic manner, but the car's lawyers argue that you have interfered with its harmonic balance.
The manufacturers of the car - 'The Really, Really, Really Big and Filthy Rich Motor Corporation' are found to have no case to answer. Squeaky clean. Innocent. Butter wouldn't melt in their take-over bids. Meanwhile, you are found guilty of assault occasioning actual physical and emotional harm to your car, and are held vicariously liable for the death of the young lady.
You are sentenced to seven million hours community service - which is to be served emptying rubbish bins outside the head office of the 'Really, Really, Really Big and Filthy Rich Motor Corporation'.
