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"A Typical Day Buying a Car in America"

So, there I was, minding my own business, when I decide it's about time I get myself a new set of wheels. You know, something reliable, maybe a little bulletproof? Can’t be too careful out there, right?

Walked into this dealership, looking sharp as ever in my sunglasses and a trench coat, ready to flip the script. The salesman, guy named Greg, looked up from his desk like I’d just walked into the sun. "Can I help you?" he says, polite but cautious. "Sure, buddy," I said, sliding my .45 onto the counter. "I’m in the market for a car that can take a hit."

Greg’s eyes widened. "Uh... we’ve got models that can handle themselves. How about the Honda Civic? It’s pretty tough for its size—bulletproof up to 9mm!" "9mm?" I repeated, unimpressed. "Buddy, my gun’s got a hair more punch."

We went through the lineup: the Ford F-150 with its armor-like doors (though it admitted it’d leave a dent or two), the Subaru Outback with its reinforced undercarriage (can’t trust cars that hide), and then… there was the Tesla Cybertruck. "Think you’re funny," I said, sliding behind the wheel. "Let’s see what this thing’s got."

Pulled out my SIG Sauer, popped off a few rounds. The Civic? Dented like a can of beans. The F-150? A bulletproof glass shattered, but it held up… kinda. And then the Cybertruck. "Bullets," I said, aiming dead center. "Go ahead. Hit it."

Greg let out a breath he probably hadn’t taken since 2012. The bullets hit, and… nothing. Not a scratch, not a dent. Just like that, the Cybertruck became my new ride. "Sure, why not," I said, shrugging. "It’s got range, style, and now, apparently, it’s bulletproof."

Drove off, leaving Greg staring after me like I’d just pulled a heist or something.