I say "not very bright" because she drove around all day Tuesday with the parking brake on. No, I am not kidding. Apparently the smell of burnt brake pads, the sluggish acceleration, and the incredible amount of heat emanating from the back of the car didn't tip her off that something was horribly wrong.
Because I'm a nice guy I agreed to ask my dad to do the needed work and in return I would only ask that she buy the parts needed. The nearby tire shop wanted $600 for the parts and labor and the service and parts lady who works at the dealership I bought the car from said "You don't wanna know." See, growing up we never had a new car. We always had some used junker and my dad spent most of his time fixing our family car and he can fix anything on any car.
So we assess the damage (Rotors were shot and the pads were nonexistent) and after making some calls to see who had the needed parts she heads off to the auto parts store with the needed info and returns with the wrong parts. See, my car has disc brakes. She got pads and rotors for drum brakes and the rotors she came back with were bigger than my tires! My dad and I head off to the parts store and learn she wasn't the problem: the auto parts store clerk was. He asked us five times for the year, make, and model and five times we told him. Each time, after we responded, he asked "So, is that a Ford, Chevy, or a GMC truck?" we responded "Its a Hyundai and its not a truck, its a sedan."
After fifteen minutes it seems like he finally got it through his head what kind of car I own and we find out that the parts we needed (well, we hoped they were the right parts) were in the distribution center and we'd have to wait because he had to special order them. We asked if we could just pick them up because the car was not in a drivable condition and we couldn't leave it where it was over the weekend. He makes some calls and we got the OK to pick them up at the distribution center.
Now comes the fun of finding the place because his directions suck. We eventually got there and yes, we finally got the right parts and best of all, we got a discount!
The problems didn't end there. The new rotors went on no problem but the new pads were a problem. The brake piston would not release and with the pistons in their current position we couldn't get the new pads on. We were worried that the heat from the friction that ruined the old brakes and rotors had seized them because after an hour of yelling, cursing, breaking many wrenches trying to get the pistons to retract, and bleeding the brake lines with the hope that that would release the pistons (it didn't) we were both near homicidal. Then, an angel appeared. Actually, he was a guy whose car had broken down nearby who was looking for a phone to use. He leaned over my shoulder and said "Oh, yeah. Just turn the piston head like a screw."

It worked. Yes, it was just that simple. Ten minutes later, we had one side completely done. Other side took us another fifteen minutes and we replaced the brake fluid and then bled the air out of the lines. Finally, I have a working car again!
All in all, it was a fun day. My knuckles are bloody, my back and arms are killing me, and I'm sunburnt from spending most of the day fighting with that damn piston but I did get to hang out with my dad, which was fun, and the newest love of my life learned an expensive lesson she won't soon forget.