Irving E. Fang

“ Not much, you understand, but it's niggling enough to annoy my girl, Jenny. You remember Jenny, the girl you used to go with before I cut you out? Ha! Ha! Anyhow, Jenny wants me to get another car. A newer one."
"But how can you?" Harry asked. "You already have one."
"That's just it, old buddy," I replied. "Grinning Gregory has one of those experimental model Protons. It's a beauty, shimmering orange with purple wheels and bearskin upholstery. You'd love it. They'll let me have it on a 30-year contract if I can sell 27 years of my Thunderflash contract. ”

“ Feeling in a distinctly blue mood I moved my tongue to the other side of my mouth and shoved on my tooth radio. I rolled the tongue over the bottom of the tooth until I got a program with some blues music. Just the way I felt. The blues. I sat in the front seat of my Thunderflash and listened to the music echoing against my tonsils.
After the song came the inevitable commercial. Only this was a new one. The announcer said:
"Here's some big, big, big news from Grinning Gregory, your largest volume dealer in lifetime cars. ”

“ You'll be getting a three-year-old car with 13 years of the contract taken care of. Now is that a deal or is that a deal!"
Harry wasn't convinced. "What's wrong with your car?"
"Oh, hardly anything."
"What's hardly anything?"
"Not even worth mentioning."
"What's not worth mentioning?"
"To tell the truth, the frame is just the least trifle out of line and every once in a great while it makes the rear wheel twist sideways."
"I don't know," said Harry.
"Good old cautious, hard-headed Harry," I told him. "You are getting the deal of a lifetime and doing a good, loyal friend a big favor besides." ”