How badly do you want a Yugo? Not that badly? Would you take three for less than a thousand dollars? No? We wouldn't, either. Or maybe we would. Hell, they're all red. How can you say no to that?
Oh, poor Yugo. We loved you once, back when we were little, when the world seemed new, when the idea of a Yugoslavian car wasn't the punch line to a horrible, horrible joke.
OK, maybe we didn't love you. Maybe that was the rest of the country, briefly infatuated with the idea of an impossibly cheap European car and sucked in by Malcolm Bricklin's hype. Still, look — one just needs a clutch! One just needs a transmission! I could take all three home and turn them into holders for potted plants. Or a place to store extra beer. I mean, really, it wouldn't be that hard. My wife would divorce me, but it'd still be pretty awesome.
Or not.
Maybe.
Oh, hell. What is it about the lure of Cheap?
(Hat tip to nosirrahg!)