i had a bit a of a predicament on my hands. i usually drove a series of forgettable beaters, purchased from my dealer, Roynaldo Dingo, for $500 a pop. i particularly enjoyed old volvo station wagons and toyota corollas, and Roynaldo always hung onto them for me, because he knew i was good for about three or four a month, depending on how feisty the cops were feeling.
tonight, though, there was some friction. i needed to drop into kitty's nightclub, and something slightly more upscale was necessitated. Roynaldo had a line on a slightly abused Lincoln Continental Mark IV, but he let it go to someone else because they offered $1250 and he had some really sharp, 80s-era Corolla hatchbacks on his lot. i was not amused.
i screamed into my 80s brick phone as Roynaldo tried to pull his middle-eastern, "brother, we are all equal" shit. but i wasn't having none of it. i threatened to find whoever he sold that Continental Mark IV to and beat their head in with a catalytic converter.
the situation was defused when a drugged-out, disoriented mobster drove onto Roynaldo's lot with another Continental, right as we were arguing. he offered the deed to the car for two grams of pure methamphetamine (i heard this wafting over the speakerphone, as Roynaldo had never quite mastered the "hold" function) and i soon had the desired Continental Mark IV for a surprisingly low $750. lady luck smiles on me tonight.
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