Commission, Much?

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“I can assure you, you will never be disappointed” Sam J. Smith said with a broad convincing smile. “In the beginning there was nothing, then God saw fit to spill life upon the world. Humanity, our very being is something most magical! I can tell you that you standing here in front of me is most definitely no mistake, why since the dawn of time itself, from feet to horse to wheel to steel, now the invention of the combustion engine, with this you will transit the spaces between spaces! The land itself will yield to your heroics and nobility.”

“Look” Mrs Pots said, “I-”

“You will become famous most definitely!” Sam J. Smith went on. “For you shall not only be the envy of your brethren, but your very attraction shall resonate with power. This stead will conquer all doubts that you may have had about your own durability, and you will wake on tomorrow's morning a Queen!”

“Yes” Mrs Pots said gratefully, “but I-”

“But do not fear! For fear is the undoing of us all. If it's a promise you seek then it's my word you can keep. I give to you the highest of all trusts, one that will see your security my up most priority!”

“Mr Smith!” Mrs Pots said angrily, “it's a 1994 Citreon Saxo. It's not a space ship.” She reached into her handbag and pulled out the asking price of £180. “Come on Billy!” she shouted over to her son, “we're going.”

Sam J. Smith walked back into the used car show room, took a pen and marked down on the sales board his recent success. “That's me leading this month already! You boys are slacking!”

His boss, Mr Brown, who had always been joyful at any new sale, was now in fact rather miffed and worried. As he got into Sam's car at the end of the day he was attempting to come up with the perfect excuse as to why one of his sales team had sold his wife's car. Mrs Brown had always loved her Saxo, and had made it quite clear that given the choice Mr Brown would be the first to go.