OOOOOH .... me!  Were all those previous strips a build up to a bad pun?  Why yes, yes I do believe they were.

Interestingly enough, though, this was totally based on a true story.  Kind of.  Well, minus the whole zombie thing and a nearby friend to make the bad pun.  But everything else is totally true.

See, I have an unhealthy obsession with the Chrysler 300.  And since I was beginning to get as sick as possible from listening to people ridicule me for driving a Chevy Aveo, I decided to seek out a potential 300 to make my own.

Now, I knew that my credit was going to be a bit of a problem ... but I figured I'd just pay for it with a higher interest rate.  You know, EXACTLY how the story would have ended if I had gone car shopping PRIOR to the Great Economic Meltdown of 2008.

My search, of course, began on the internet .  I found what looked to be a steal at the local Dodge dealer: a used 300, tricked out with the all the features, for a touch over $14k.  I was so jazzed about this find that I actually took the afternoon off of work to go check it out.

Needless to say, I walked into the dealership, ready to buy.  I think the salesman could smell it.

The first sign of bad juju was that the car I was looking for had been sold several days prior.  Way to go keeping the online listings current, Dodge Dealer!  Since I had already taken the afternoon off and I was already at the frakking dealer, I scoped out the other 300's they had on the lot.  One that caught my eye was a silver touring model.  It wasn't too bad.

I took it out for a spin and felt okay about it.

Ultimately, however, I was killing time.  See, the dealer has a used 300C model, black, with all the bells and whistles.  I really wanted to see what the V8 felt like, but the sales MANAGER had taken the car and was scheduled to be back in thirty minutes or so.

Long story short, I waited.

And it was worth it.

Much like Zaphod, as soon as I slid behind the wheel, I was in heaven.  I took her out for a much shorter test drive, but it was beautiful.  I fell in love instantly and once again, the salesman knew it.

It was never about selling me the car ... it was about making the deal.  I wanted the car.  I would HAVE the car.  I didn't even care that it was several thousand more than what I had originally selected: this car was so perfect, after driving it, I couldn't imagine ever getting something else.

.... and then, of course, my credit check came back.  And it wasn't that my credit was hideously fucked up, but it was low enough where the already stingy banks wouldn't even consider making the loan.

There's really no punchline to the story.  The heartbreak is that I was really excited about it and planned on taking it out to my parents as soon as I left the dealer to show it off to my dad ... probably the only person in my family who would have appreciated that beast of a V8 as much as I did.

It was the next morning that he died.

It would have been cool to share that moment with him ...

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