President Sets the Bad-Ide-O-Meter to 10; Breaks off the Knob

CWMC Headquarters, Ardrossan, Ab: With another year-end fiscal fuck-o-rama on the horizon, the President has authorized the immediate implementation of debilitating austerity measures for every Division in an attempt to mitigate the ghastly budgetary indiscretions of the past several months. 

Other admirers include neighbours and NAPA personnel.

  As is usually the case in these situations, the President is the principal source of the problem, and several of his latest acquisitions have been cause for more than the usual amount of Monday-morning coffee-pot quarterbacking and backhanded photocopier-leaning speculation concerning the seemingly inexhaustible appetite for intoxicants and insanity that seem to fuel his decision-making process. 
  At the center of this latest cash crisis sits, (immobile, naturally) not one, not two, but a trio of inert Saab 99s; all in a state that would make any sensible person run away screaming, holding their wallet protectively close to keep it from harm and gibbering long-suppressed scraps of scripture to ward off the evil. Actually exchanging real Authorized Funding for multiple dead examples of 35-year-old cars from an extinct company should trigger a few red indicators. If it does not, as is clearly the case within the Swedish Car Division, you probably have other wiring issues with your risk management circuitry.

Delicate detailing takes the breath away.

  On the topic of wiring issues, we come to the first of the 99's. Like the other two, the "restorable" example arrived by trailer, drizzling a Hansel and Gretel-esque trail of its remaining fuel onto the ground and smoldering suspiciously from underhood whenever any of its electric devices was engaged. It is apparently a 1978 model, and is actually being granted indoor storage because of its impossibly rust-free condition, and to hide it from locals suspicious of anything not powered by a Cummins. Test drives are being postponed until the vehicle is not actually ready to catch on fire at any second.

Saab #3: That door handle is still good.

  The second 99, a 4-door GLE model, has been the victim at some time in the recent past of some seriously counter-productive bodywork. Such is the damage caused by the previous owner that the car will be consigned to the parts bin, or possibly cobbled up into running condition and enlisted in the CWMC Winter Beater fleet. The President is considering assigning the car to Agent 100013, just to see the looks on the faces of his co-workers at NAPA.
  Saab #3 is ostensibly the "parts car" of the group; ready and willing to sacrifice itself for the betterment of the Saab community at large. Or, it would be if there were any good parts on it. The engine, transmission, radiator, and parts of the interior have already been removed, and the body panels are rusted out in the usual, depressing, places.

Agent 311: Serious allegations in Saab Scaandal.

   " #3 is basically just a windshield that takes up a lot of room and leaks power steering fluid on the grass." Said Agent 311 yesterday in a rarely heard telephone interview from his Swedish Car Division Office in Houston. CWMC's only other Trollhattan-thusiast is suspected by several other Agents not to have done enough to discourage these Sunday-stoner-time Saab-shopping binges.
  "What the hell is going on around here?" said a disbelieving Agent 1080 upon seeing the infestation of short, funny-looking Swedish sedans for the first time, "What the fuck are these things? Jesus, I...I...why? Are you keeping this junk? 
  Not a fan; these don't resemble 1968 Plymouths at all."
  Agent 0318 was similarly unmoved by the appearance of the 99's.
  "I try to be your friend, you know? Like, I didn't say anything when you bought that... CX? what the fuck is that thing? Some kind of a chopped Citation? What the hell are you going to do with that? You have two of them? And what's this other thing? Why would you buy any of this shit?"
  "Look, I just think it's time you took a minute... I mean, if you think that I'll ride in this thing..."  added Agent 1080, recoiling as he looked in on an interior devoid of decadence and die-cast decoration; upright seats, soft surfaces, and hieroglyphic heater controls combined to offend his slouchy, gear-banging, beer-cans-out-the-window style.
 The President, his capacity for subtlety severely diminished by a towering pair of able-bodied G&Ts, replied that
   "All Agents should be advised that year-end bonuses this term will consist largely of being told to fuck off."