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The Auto Auction
The Auto Auction
The Auto Auction
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The Auto Auction

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Bobby Conway, owner of S&M Motors, is wheeling and dealing in the madcap world of the auto auctions.  Approaching 40 he's growing tired of the game, but there's too much money and too much "bling" to just let go.  Then he meets Kathleen. 

She encourages Bobby to follow his outrageous dream: get out of the car business and open a home for wayward kids.  However, there are huge obstacles.  He is threatened by two "wise guys" - Tony Mailbox and Joey A - who need his expertise to rob the auto auction; and two "aspiring terrorists", Samood and Achmed, who "insist" on his help in using the auto auction to smuggle money and explosives into the country.  In the meantime, Bobby tries constantly to drum up business for giant toilets wherever he goes.  All this, while the cops conduct their own undercover investigation into the used car business. 

Bobby uses wit, humor, and absurdity along with the support of a friend, Paul Pottimouth, with Tourette's syndrome, nuns, a funeral director, and an undercover cop to overcome all obstacles.  The wise guys are "arrested" by laughter.  In a twist of fate, the terrorists become used car dealers, and the man with Tourette's winds up testifying before a Congressional committee.  All of the characters change, but many in unexpected ways.  

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJeffry Weiss
Release dateAug 16, 2019
ISBN9781393453697
The Auto Auction
Author

Jeffry Weiss

BIOGRAPHY Mr. Weiss attended Central High School, at the time recognized as the top High School academically in the U.S.  He then attended Drexel University where he gained a BS in History, Temple University where he earned an MA in Economics and the University of Pennsylvania where he received an MA in International Affairs.  Those studies provided him with unique insights in the realm of foreign policy, military capabilities, détente, and trade. He has been a writer for forty plus years and has penned hundreds of articles on social, political, and economic issues.  He has written position papers for the Carter and Clinton Administrations and his work on social issues has received recognition directly from the office of the President of México.  He speaks regularly with Noam Chomsky on political, economic, cultural, and military issues. Mr. Weiss writes political, military, economic and scientific thrillers.  There are now twelve books in the Paul Decker series.  All his stories come right off the front pages of the major magazines and newspapers but none of his plots has ever found their way into novel before.  His characters are ones readers can relate to: flawed, not superheroes.  His stories do not require a leap of faith or use deus ex machina. Finally, he has written a stage play, “Einstein at the Guten Zeiten (good times) Beer Garden, and an urban horror novel: “The Art of Theft”, a modern day version of “The Picture of Dorian Grey” by Oscar Wilde.

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    Book preview

    The Auto Auction - Jeffry Weiss

    Jeffry Weiss

    303-525-1771

    jeffryweiss@gmail.com

    Black screen, white letter:

    I LOVE TO SLEEP.  I’D RATHER SLEEP THAN EAT OR HAVE SEX.  SO IF I HAVE TO GET UP IN THE MORNING, SOMEBODY’S GOT TO PAY.

    ––––––––

    Joe Girard, The World’s Greatest Used Car Salesman.

    FADE IN:

    ––––––––

    EXT.  L.A. CALIF. – DAY

    Sunlight breaks through the clouds, illuminating Los Angeles below. In response, the city spreads its wings: palm trees, million dollar homes, Rodeo Drive. 

    Continuing beyond the splendor - factories, blue-collar neighborhoods, Walmart - halting over an INDUSTRIAL PARK.

    ––––––––

    EXT.  USED CAR LOT - DAY

    A large one-story building.

    A sign hangs out front: S&M MOTORS

    There are about twenty cars of all ages and prices out front, with strings of lights criss-crossing the lot. Billboards advertise: DEEP DISCOUNT FUNERALS. TWO FOR ONE SPECIALS.

    The low angle light of a late afternoon seeps into the clearstory windows of the building, providing a bird’s-eye view of the garage.

    ––––––––

    INT.  S&M MOTORS - DAY

    It’s a full service garage: miles rolled back, wrecks rebuilt, flood cars refurbished, insurance scams, midnight auto supply.

    Cars in every state of repair and condition are spread out over the huge work area. Metal shelves hold all manner of parts. Cars are spliced together: red fenders on a black BMW, silver front end on a white AUDI, green doors on a blue JAGUAR.

    Music plays in the background. RACHMANINOFF: PIANO CONCERTO #2

    BOBBY CONWAY (40’s) choreographs the action.  Easy going.  Leftover hippie, but college articulate. Shaggy brown hair, winsome eyes,

    an easy smile.

    He’s a dichotomy. Much of what he does is illegal, yet he has an endearing quality about him.                 

    Bobby waves his hands as if conducting the concerto.

    He realizes he hasn’t done any work since lunch and so he get to it. He extracts the instrument cluster from a 2008 Chevy Tahoe, and turns it over.

    TIGHT SHOT: Bobby delicately plugs a small HAND-HELD COMPUTER into the back of the odometer and punches in numbers. The miles blink, then go from 145,000 to 45,000 in an instant.

    Bobby is totally nonchalant. He’s obviously done it a million times. 

    Employee #1 (BILLY – 30’s) is a greaser, but a graduate from the cool school.  He opens the door to an OLDS CUTLASS standing next to him.

    CLOSE UP ON THE CAR; A flood of WATER, along with some FISH, pour out of the car. There are FLOWERS growing through the dash and patches of GRASS on the seats. Billy sticks the nozzle of a giant SHOP VAC in the car and begins sucking out the left over water. 

    BOBBY

    Hey.  Turn that thing down to low. I can’t hear the virtuoso cadenza.

    Billy complies. 

    A moment passes. Billy calls out to employee #2 (PHIL - 20’s) a computer nerd.

    BILLY

    There seems to be a little mildew here, Phil. Hand me that spray bottle of flood fix we just

    picked up.

    Phil is hunched over a MICROSCOPE.  

    PHIL

    (totally focused)   

    Just a minute. I’m almost finished here.

    TIGHT SHOT: Phil peers down the tube of the microscope.

    PHIL’S POV: An ULTRA FINE BRUSH whites out the hundred thousand miles digit on a title. The miles go from 145,000 to 45,000. The same miles that are now on the odometer Bobby’s working on!

    BACK TO SCENE:

    Phil admires his work for a moment, then walks over to Billy with the SPRAY BOTTLE. 

    PHIL

    What’s that scent? Eau de swamp?

    (after thought)

    You could open a flower store with all the shit growing in there.

    There is a knock on the shop door. Bobby throws a worried look at Billy. 

    BOBBY

    I thought Stan was watching the lot today.

    BILLY

    He went on a parts run.

    Bobby starts to walk over to the door, but not before sliding the instrument cluster under the counter. Phil stashes the microscope in a desk drawer.

    Bobby opens the door, sticking his head out a narrow opening. He confronts an Indian, SINGE PATEL, who stands determined, sporting a traditional headdress. He’s visibly upset.

    There is a brief push / pull as Singe and Bobby fight for control of the door. 

    Singe wins Round 1.

    SINGE PATEL

    I must speak to the owner.

    BOBBY

    Is this in reference to his funeral expenses?

    SINGE PATEL

    He is dead?

    BOBBY

    Run over by a cab.

    SINGE PATEL

    Probably driven by an Indian.

    BOBBY

    You said it, not me.

    Bobby rubs away fake tears.

    BOBBY

    Left three kids behind.

    Singe Patel maneuvers past Bobby, looking for incriminating evidence in the shop.

    SINGE PATEL

    Never the less, I must speak to whoever is in charge. You perhaps?

    BOBBY

    Me?  No. I’m a comedian. I’m just here tryin’ to come up with new material. His wife inherited the place but she’s in labor with their fourth child. 

    Bobby puts a hand on Mr. Patel’s shoulder, chokes up, chest heaving.

    BOBBY (CON’T)

    Four kids with no dad. What’s worse than that?

    Singe Patel is waving his hands erratically; walking around in a small circle like one foot is nailed to the floor.

    SINGE PATEL

    (dismissively)

    The car I was sold is berry, berry bad. 

    BOBBY

    We fired the salesman who sold you the car. He was an illegal alien.  We’re supposed to report anybody

    who can’t say, very, to the INS.  Can I see your green card?

    Singe Patel starts to reach for his wallet before regaining his senses.

    BOBBY (CON’T)

    Say, why’d you need a station wagon anyway? We’ve got plenty of sedans.

    SINGE PATEL

    For my snakes.

    Bobby doesn’t know if he is being played or not.

    BOBBY

    Don’t tell me; you’re a snake charmer.

    SINGLE PATEL

    Okay, I won’t tell you.

    BOBBY

    Thanks.

    SINGE PATEL   

    I

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