"I'll pay cash!" she says and hands over a bagful of Twenties.
The deal is finalised very quickly and the girl drives it away.
Two days later she's back, fuming, "I want my money back...it smells awfully bad when I use the brakes."
Not wanting to lose the sale (having taken cash and fiddled the books) the sales-manager decides to ride in the car with her 'in case she ain't driving it properly'.
He gets in and she roars out of the dealership, drops it into second gear at 50 mph, floors the pedal again and slips into 3rd at 80 mph, does a handbrake turn into a country lane and then really starts to accelerate. 110 mph in 4th, 140 in 5th, the engine's roaring like a Lion with toothache, and the car is shuddering as it climbs to 170 mph. The scenery is a green blur and the G-force has him pinned in the seat.
In the distance, to his relief, the barriers of a level crossing are beginning to come down and she will have to slow down (he thinks!), but no, she floors it and the revometer climbs higher. 100 yards from the crossing she slams on the brakes and the car stops inches from the barrier.
"So, can you smell it?" she says.
"SMELL IT? HONEY, I'M SITTING IN IT!"
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