Could he pull this off? It was suppose to be a display car, crown jewel of the exhibit, but Vince Wonderboy had a big bright idea to lure Apri Cott in here, not the brightest of the new crop, and, most importantly, the wealthiest, or potentially so if all the family money rolls his way. “You won’t even *need* money for the tuition part of your education with this baby,” he pitched under the pitched tent this car would center if it weren’t for that darn pole in the middle. If only they could make (the object) invisible. “You’ll settle down on the bay or something with a rich heiress and whittle the days away sipping ginger beer and eating Toasty-O’s — I think they’re up to irregular shapes like strings and loops by this time,” he sidetracked. Back to it: “5000,” he said. “You get your own oxygen tank with it, right there in the center between the two seats. You’ll be really high up; you’ll need it. We’ll throw that in for free.”
“I’ll *take* it,” he rapidly said after the “free” came out of the car loaner agent’s mouth. Fish come to papa, Vince W. thought, imagining himself down on that same pretend bay with the same pretend heiress. One day…
