I’m not at all sure what these folks are doing here. They’re not washing this car because the ground’s not wet. And they’re not drying it because the car’s not wet. Nobody’s got any Turtle Wax. It’s all very odd. So I’ll try to piece this scene together simply from what I see.
The man positioned at the very front of the car can’t get his Timex ticking. The farmer with his arm stuck under the fender is trying to milk the “steel cow.” Try as she may, the lady rubbing the rear fender can’t get the genie to come out. And the woman behind the wheel wants directions to anywhere outside the Twilight Zone.
The people are all zombies. The car is a 1948 Chevrolet.