I am a former locksmith and I did a lot of automotive work. I've seen many cars in this state. In the beginning of my life as a key maker I would simply overlook things like this. The make of this vehicle is hard to judge by the photo but my gut tells me Toyota or other Asian made brand of some type, which is important to know because the process of key making begins with removing the passenger side door lock. It has to be this lock because that where the manufactures place the cars key code, which saves tons of labor and keeps customer cost down. Back to story, in my early days I would just move all that stuff and ignore it to spare the customer any kind of shame at the state of their space. One hot summer day in Atlanta I was called out to do the above described service on a car and found it in a state very similar to this. The driver was a large African-American woman who could have been anywhere from 30 years old to 70 years old. She was at least a three hundred pounder and, of course, attempting to dress like a woman of say a size zero. There were sweaty black folds of flesh twisting and shaking with each wave of her arm. I will say this, this woman did use deodorant, you could easily see it in her arm hair. In short, she was one of the most fowl humans I have ever come across. "You heah ta make 'dis kay?" i said I was and set to work. First job, open the car. It was locked and there was a possibility the key was inside. "You betta nawt dambage my ride, I be dun sued yo ass." A more experienced me would have stopped right there, but at three years of experience I still had misplaced faith in the goodness of human beings. I should have put my tools away, got in my van, put the AC on full blast and waved goodbye. I had the car open pretty quick, little slower than usual because it was so hot the tools and cars were almost painful to touch, it had to be 110-115 that day. Instinctively I opened the car door, rear passenger. Second mistake. I once had to open a closed apartment that an elderly man died in, the smell that came out of that car was the closest thing I ever encountered that came close to the smell I encountered when the door of that apartment was opened. "Do you want to look for your keys in there?" i asked her. "Naw, dat's yo job. I ain't pain to do yo work fo ya." I sighed and held my breath reaching inside I unlocked the passenger's door and of course trash mountain fell out when I did. "Wat yo do dat fo! you gettin trash all ober my work!" I wanted to stab this fat cunt in her eye with a round pippen file I had handy at the time. "Sorry, I have to use this door to make the key." At this point I crouch down and begin to remove screws clips etc from the door panel. Blackzilla, as i would call her later, was bitching and stomping her feet that I didn't even try to find her keys, at which point I hit the power unlock button and invited her to get in the other side and have a go at it. That was my third mistake. She jerked the door open and jumped in the driver seat and started rooting the remaining garbage out of the side I was on, and that's when it happened. It's remained in my memory for almost twenty years now. As I was pulling the door panel off with mounds of trash now collecting around my feet and making my skin crawl because, as it was a very hot summer day I was wearing shorts, which I could count as my fourth mistake and I also now realize this was the last time I ever wore shorts regardless of temperature on the job. Suddenly startled by all the commotion several large gray rats jumped out of their long nested floor board and while a couple simply made for the back seat one did its damnest to hide in the billowing body of Blackzilla. One also did a gymnastic leap bouncing off my leg and fleeing into suburban Atlanta. Blackzilla had gone into a deathroll in the front seat of the car trying to get out and managed to emit a sound I have a hard time describing as that unfortunate rat became stuck in one of the folds of that woman's body. I was absolutely dumbstruck watching all this unfold in that little space an open car door provides, and then out of no where a large black snake lunges out of the spinning horror inside that car and seeing it I attempted to jump on top of the car. All I did was scare it into biting me on the shin. I freaked completely out at this point. Blackzilla had managed to draw a crowd to us and thankfully someone had called 911 already, assuming that I was killing her. Meanwhile this large black snake has bitten me in it's terror and it's stuck in my leg. All I can see is snake and I know this is how I'm going to die, we have many deadly snakes in Georgia and I have a natural fear of them anyway. It was a rat snake that had taken up residence in this woman's car of course, but it looked like a king cobra to me. I started beating it with the woman's door panel which ripped it out of my leg and broke the panel, there was so much blood. Something told me to kill the snake so as it attempted to get away I grabbed my car opening tool and pinned it and stabbed it through the head with my pippen file, which broke when it hit the concrete and the snake shook in it's death throws. About this time Cobb Counties finest show up to see Blackzilla screaming beside her car and me covered in blood holding what could have easily been seen as a shank. I was lucky the bastards didn't shoot me. After about five minutes of recounting they realize I was snake bitten and had to get to the hospital, so they bagged the snake and called my boss and a kind officer stayed with my van while the guys I worked with made arrangements to get it. I was rushed to a hospital where it was determined that the snake was non-lethal, but I still had to be kept overnight to make sure the wound wasn't going to be septic. Blackzilla was issued several tickets because of the condition of her car, which was also declared a public health hazard and impounded by the police. A couple of weeks later my boss got a call from Blackzillas lawyer advising we were going to be sued for damages to the vehicle. I happened to be standing there when he took the call. my boss said "Oh really, I'm glad you called. I need your contact information." he took it. "That's awesome, let me tell you this. My technician was hospitalized under workers comp because a snake that crawled out of your clients car bit him. I will be suing your client, and all insurers she may have to recoup the losses and for my tech's pain and suffering. Secondly we never received payment for opening the car in question so I'm going to go swear out a warrant for theft of service on your client, I'll let them know she can be found through your office." Then he hung up. He was as good as his word, and I ended up with a nice little check for five grand, which I promptly spent on a coked up stripper named Whitney. Ah well, to be young and stupid. For the rest of my days as a locksmith when I came across a car like this I would unlock it, and move away allowing the client to actually open it. If further work needed to be done I would force the client to clean it out, or I would walk away.

TL;DR: I was bitten by a snake trying to service a car like this.