Operation D.I.S.C.O. Leaves President Hungry for Italian

Edmonton, Ab, Possibly the North side: Booking an appointment with the President before noon takes a considerable amount of pull, and Agent 747 is on that short list. What could possibly be important enough to attempt to rouse ol' Mr. Party before Happy Hour starts?
 Operation Distressed Italian Sports Car Overload, is all.

747 Contemplates bent Lambo project

Agent 747 started the day with a quick stop to kick the tires (not too hard lest they fall off) on a very hockey-player-looking Lamborghini Gallardo, yours for a much-reduced price if you have the time and inclination to try to put a 500 hp, 4 wheel drive, aluminum & carbon fibre write-off back together. In a rare and inexplicable moment of sanity, both Agent 747 and the Prez passed on the opportunity and decided to get some lunch at the Italian Bakery instead.

Long hood good for storing boxes and shit

  Shortly post-lunch, Agent 747 loaded the Prez into his Agency Subaru and proceeded to an unknown location deep in the foreign-car district of downtown. Camouflaged in the local pawn-shop & porno ambience, and silent but for the fluttering flags on the lease-back fleet trash ageing on the local mud-lots, a small brick building so utterly without charm as to be virtually invisible awaited the arrival of CWMC Agents. 
   Inside, 747 introduced the President to his own top-secret Italian Connection, the elusive "Mr. K". They then spent a few minutes checking out some of the most Fully Presidentially Approved car stash in the city. The President had barely walked in the door when he was rendered mute by Italian Car Envy: a scruffy Alfa Romeo Montreal, just sitting there on the floor, as if to say "What? You don't have one?"

  It only got worse for the President when he had to be helped back up off the floor after laying his bloodshot eyes on the second Lambo of the day; this time an Espada. All Agents know, of course, that the Montreal and the Espada are two of the Prez' favourite cars, and having never actually having seen one of either one of them before, he was having trouble believing there weren't some residual (or not so residual) drug effects at work here. The sight of a rare Lancia Delta Integrale in the corner didn't help with the sense of unreality, either, but everything probably would have been fine if the President hadn't happened to see a pair of headlights poking out of a pile of boxes under some stairs.
 A slightly closer inspection revealed, of course, a Ferrari 330 GT. The President probably lost con- sciousness just before noticing the original paint, or the Borranis, or the amazingly preserved interior, but nevertheless managed to record the moment of discovery with a couple of shitty shaky-hand snapshots, seen here.
  Agent 747 delivered the semi-coherent President back to the underground storage bunker later that evening, where he is recovering slowly. He has drawn plans for his own future Italian Car Shrine, but so far a boozy ground-breaking ceremony has been the extent of the actual work.
 All agents are being called in to HQ to assist, if only by hanging around and getting slightly hammered up and bullshitting each other.