When Brian Millett was given a late-model, slightly used, low-mileage coffin, he did what any rabid gearhead would do: He transformed it into a car. Talk about a set of wheels to die for.

No, Millett isn't a big horror movie fan (although he's fond of Christine and Pet Sematary, two films that, coincidentally, revolve around cars and coffins). Rather, the ardent NASCAR aficionado and endless tinkerer just loves mobilizing immobile objects. One of his most offbeat creations to date is a motorized bar stool.

So, when Millett's mortician friend was looking to get rid of a "pre-owned" coffin recently, Millett was only too happy to take the coffin off the mortician's hands - and mount the thing on a frame. The coffin was indeed originally used for its intended purpose: It had been previously used to transport a body from Italy to Canada. Luckily for Millett, the coffin adroitly survived its trans-Atlantic commute.

The Cavan, Ont., resident says he's always had a desire to fabricate something from a coffin. He originally planned to purchase a metal casket and transform it into a barbecue. Since the coffin he acquired is made of medium-density fibreboard, Millett concluded it would never function as a makeshift hibachi. Thus, he decided to - ahem - think outside the box: Instead of making the coffin into a grill, Millett affixed a grill on the coffin (as well as a suspension, motor, wheels and various other parts) to resurrect it as a macabre hot rod.

To date he's invested $1,500 in materials and has put in 50 hours of labour creating his creepy chariot. While the coffin car is functional, it remains a work in progress: Millett plans to invest an additional 400 hours of work into perfecting his scream machine.

For starters, Millett plans to install a fibreglass insert headrest that will incorporate a pair of stereo speakers. The 20-litre oil tank (which services the hydraulic drive system) located at the front end will be replaced with a tombstone-shaped tank. As well, Millett plans to repaint the coffin black, adding the silver silhouette of a ghost.

As for the guts of his coffin car, the engine isn't exactly a hellfire Hemi; rather, it's a 15-horsepower Honda motor. Still, the power plant allows the coffin car to cruise at a bat-out-of-heck speed of 40 kilometres an hour. It feels faster, though, given that it's low to the ground (albeit not quite six feet under).

Millett notes he sourced the rear axle from a dilapidated 1983 E-Z-Go golf cart and custom-rendered the front axle. Like any proper hot rod, the car plunges almost 10 centimetres at the front. Still to come: skull-shaped headlights and taillights and a skeleton-shaped gear shifter.

Millett also has a pair of motorcycle mirrors he plans to install. The mirrors will unfold from the coffin only when the driver is inside. This is due to a design challenge Millett faces: He doesn't want to affix too many car parts to the coffin's exterior for fear that "it won't look like a coffin any more - just a big piece of wood."

Millett has also taken some safety precautions. For example, because the gas tank is situated on top of the motor, he needed to fireproof the interior to protect the driver. A coffin on wheels is one thing; a mobile crematorium is likely a one-way trip to the morgue.

What does his family think of his coffin car? "My wife has given me a lot of support . . . but she thinks I'm an idiot," says Millett. "Over the years, I've built so many crazy things."

Indeed, in addition to the motorized bar stool, other oddball vehicles residing in Millett's garage include a "redneck grass cutter" - it's one-third mini-bike, two-thirds riding lawn mower (Millett refers to it as Jane Doe, a derivative of John Deere). Millett also has a souped-up golf cart that can tow a large log.

As for coffin commuting, Millett looked at making his vehicle street legal, but he soon discovered it would be almost impossible to meet all the technical and safety requirements. Instead, he plans to drive it around his own property and make it available for parades.

In the meantime, he's struggling with a name for his machine, torn between Lost Soul and The Last Ride.

A question arises: Some fervent car buffs have actually been buried in their vehicles upon kicking the bucket. When the 45-year-old Millett expires, does he plan to use the coffin for its original purpose?

"Nah," he says. "I want to be cremated. Why take this away from somebody else who can enjoy it when I'm gone?"

Here's hoping Millett's hellacious hot rod remains a graveyard smash forevermore.

The news.come from www.bossgoo.com

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