bizarreville

Flunkmann showed up at the Bizarreville Chevy/Olds dealer over the weekend, sputtering along in his legendary AMC Pacer, and looking for a quick trade-in on the Cash-for-Clunkers program.  None of the regular sales shmoes came to meet him, so Mr. Skimjob, the manager approached.

“Isn’t that the car that won the recent award by a big insurance company as the worst car ever produced?  (sniff, sniff)  Yes…yes…I thought I smelled a herd of elephants passing by.  I’m sorry, Flunkmann, but your Pacer won’t qualify for the new program.  Unfortunately for you, your dreamboat was dubbed a “clunker” when it was first introduced over 30 years ago.  Was one of few cars to achieve Clunker status while still on the showroom.  But now, it is officially classified as a “sub-clunker”, along with its friends the Chrysler LeBaron, the Ford Pinto, and the Yugo.  I mean, it’s the original little douche coupe, brother.  Sorry.”

But Flunkmann replied: “You must be kidding.  My Pacer is at just as good as that…that…what is that car over there, the one caked in grime…the filthmobile over there?  Is that a “new” Oldsmobile on your lot?”

“Yes, a 2004 model…really quite a good buy.  Been on the lot for 5 years, ever since they stopped making Olds.  Actually, funny enough, that Olds qualifies as a Clunker since the whole company went defunct recently.  I had to strip the old nameplate and replace it with that “Mo Liq” plate when they changed their name to Motors Liquidation Company last month.  Pretty stylish logo, huh?  Listen, we could clean that WASH ME graffiti off the back window, scrape off the 5-layer lasagne of layered muck, goo, and scuz, see if it still starts, and sell it to you…then you could turn it right back in as a Clunker.  They’ll haul it off to the meltdown yard by close of business.”

“You want to sell me a disgusting hunk of pig iron, just so I can turn it back in?”

“I suppose you could just buy it and drive it…only problem is there aren’t any Mo Liq dealers to service it, when it breaks down.  You’d be essentially on your own, up Shozbot Creek without the proverbial paddle.  Either way…up to you.  Whaddya say…can I put you in that baby this afternoon?”

Flunkmann just walked away.  He would have driven away, but the Pacer overheated while he was waiting.  Strangely, the motor wasn’t even running when it overheated.