I recently had a conversation with the charming and beautiful (and quite forgiving, I might add) Mrs. Magicboltbox about my relative lack of recent car purchases – I haven’t spent any ill-advised cash on greasy old car parts or greasy old cars in quite a while. Lo and behold, here is my chance to kill two birds with one stone: it’s a genuine parts car! I can immediately start annoying the neighbors and fending off angry city inspectors once I deposit this steaming heap of used-to-be-awesome in the backyard! It’s got a (presumably) running 455, a hopped-up transmission, and enough tetanus to keep a railyard full of hobos in the clinic for a week!
Joking aside, I could probably yank the engine and transmission (I’m unsure at this point whether it’s a stick or an auto) for my own use and part out the rest (over a period of time that would surely involve no less than two divorce threats, four threatening letters from neighbors and/or the city, and three trips to the ER). Assuming all goes to plan, I’d probably come close to breaking even at the end. Of course, it wouldn’t go to plan and I’d end up with an engine with a bad rod knock and a rusting corpse of a car that I sell for $200 scrap. But it sure would be fun!