Is the lawn chair mightier than the legal adviser?

That's the question being tested right now by Sheila Kittrell and Becky Collins of Delta. You may have seen the pair who have set up shop outside Pro Lube in Jackson. They wave signs at oncoming traffic and tell those who'll listen the story of a car that went in for an oil change and came out with a fried engine.

"I had a decent life before that oil change, actually," said Collins. "I just want my car returned to what it was before I drove it in there. I'm not asking for lost wages or anything like that. Just my car back."

Kittrell says back on March 23 she took Collins' 2003 Oldsmobile Alero for an oil change at Pro Lube. She paid for the service and then began the 18-mile drive back to Delta. By the time she returned home, she said the car was making a sound like, "somebody was under the hood banging it with a hammer."

Pro Lube, she believed, hadn't refilled the black gooey stuff they'd drained out. If this was the case, metal-on-metal friction would have charbroiled the engine to a crisp on the drive home.

Pro Lube employees (who the company stresses speak only for themselves) counter that a car without oil couldn't have made the 1.5-mile drive to Jackson High School much less all the way to Delta.

After returning home, Kittrell called Pro Lube and they dispatched someone to look at the car. Kittrell said the employee checked the dip stick and found it empty, he then filled it with oil from a used container and started the car.

The noise continued, but when Kittrell raised the issue of taking the car to a repair shop, the employee balked. "He said he wanted to take it to 'an old boy he knew in Malden.' I told him 'hell no,'" she said.

Pro Lube continues to deny liability for any damages and says they have made the women a "fair" offer and tried to resolve the dispute amicably. They made no mention of the "old boy."

Since that time the Delta pair have been in a protracted fight trying to recoup the $4,802 it cost to replace the car's engine. The car is being held at a local repair shop which won't release it without payment.

Collins also hired a lawyer not long after the event but says he ran through a $500 retainer quickly. He told her the case was a slam dunk, but a trial would cost $1,500 just to get in the courthouse doors. The women can't afford that.

So, last week the two women decided to take destiny into their own hands. They set up in front of Pro Lube and started raising some good old-fashioned hellfire.

"I tried to have a lawyer handle this, but I can't afford it so now they're going to hear from me everyday," said Collins. "The legal system didn't work for me."

The women say they caused such a fuss that one day an employee came out and turned on the sprinkler. "I just went and got my umbrella," Kittrell joked.

Two Pro Lube employees denied knowledge of this incident. "I went out there today and took them sodas," said Justin Brune. But Brune conceded the women's protest may be taking its toll, adding, "We've had pretty slow days here since last Thursday."

The battle has had other casualties. Collins said she ended up leaving her job at Procter & Gamble partially due to the loss of her car. She also said stress from the ordeal caused her to go on anti-anxiety medication.

"I've had a couple job offers since then, but I can't get a job because I can't go anywhere," said Collins. "It sucks to say it, but I'm on food stamps now just to make it through."

TJ Greaney is a staff reporter for the Southeast Missourian.