You couldn't pay me to live in one of their old jack o' lantern roachtraps. Damn near half the fleet has batwings twisted and bent to all hell, scrached-up paint jobs that look like Freddie Kruger gave em' a once-over. Running boards and bumpers held up by spit and baling wire.
Yep, I'll be blowin' your doors off on an interstate real soon, driver.