The Getaway

“How much do you want for the car?” ask Freddy as he looked around nervously.

“Before I tell you, let me point out a few features. It has an 8-track stereo. Those things are hard to come by. That alone makes this machine a classic.”

“Now how much?

“Plus, I don’t know if you noticed, the huge tail fins give this beast a definite mark of distinction. The spacious interior is perfectly suited for someone of your, uh, physique.”

Freddy couldn’t help but try to suck in some of the generous gut currently lapping over his belt. This was taking way too long. He needed to hurry or there was going to be trouble.

“I like the car. I want the car. How much for the god damn car?”

Bob knew he had him. He loved reeling them in and then landing the big fish. He was born a salesman. It was just about time to close this deal. First just a little more honey on the bait.

“By the way Freddie, this land yacht gets about fifteen miles to the gallon. Not bad for a vintage piece of work like this.”

“This is the last time I am going to ask. How much for the fucking car?”

“I can let this beauty go for a mere fifteen thousand. That includes a free car wash.”

Freddie looked into the bag of cash he was holding. There couldn’t have been more than five thousand in there. He would have to negotiate this guy down a bit.

Taking out a large handgun he asked again, “How much did you say?”

Bob held out the keys to the 1968 Cadillac.

“Here, take it for a test drive. Come back whenever.”

As Freddie peeled out of the lot, sirens grew in the distance.

Word count 299