“This, my friend, is destined to be a classic. ‘69 Camaro ZL1 V-8 Super Sports, Turbo Hydra-matic, cowl hood…”
“What about this one instead, Starsk? Straight off the showroom floor.”
“It’s brown.”
“It’s within your price range, practical enough for work…”
“Brown, Hutch.”
“Paint it!”
Starsky snapped his fingers. “I got it. Al knows this guy. I can see it now,” he swept his hands through the air like an artiste. “Red. Yeah, I’ll paint her red. Maybe with something flashy down the sides.”
Hutch groaned.
Starsky patted his back. “Thanks pal. Forget the Chevy, I’m gonna buy this Torino.”