One of the reasons I enjoy writing about cars, especially used ones, is that they remind me of a certain era. They often take me to a place in my head where I can imagine that vehicle in a particular setting and what kind of world surrounded it. A 1996 Audi A6 Avant makes me think of a Bavarian family on their way to a mountain getaway, an E30 M3 of a group of young Brits headed to the track for the weekend, an E39 M5 of a well heeled man racing across town to an important meeting. My love of cars has always been tied to the stories they have to tell or ones that they make me imagine when I come across them. I think that’s probably why I was drawn to the batshit crazy vehicle you see before you. This Mercedes is completely ridiculous on first glance, a rolling testament as to why money can’t buy you class.
But then a funny thing happens after you stare at it for awhile. You stop laughing and start wondering why the hell anyone would drop over a $100k building such a garish ride. Suddenly it’s not so funny anymore and you want to get to the bottom of this mystery. Was the person who paid for this mentally fit when they signed the papers to have Marque Motor Coach Builders cut the top off a W126 500 SEC? Did they loose a bet with a friend who had them paint it canary yellow? Did they grow up in culture where brown and yellow are the colors that represent the height of luxury? So many questions we’ll sadly never know the answer to but alas, such is the nature of many used vehicles. What I think we can assume happened here is someone had some extra money burning a hole in their pocket around the end of the year and in an altered state of consciousness decided to blow said money on a custom convertible I’m going to henceforth refer to as “Big Bird”.