“It’s Friday and everyone needs to have ten cars out by the end of the weekend. If you don’t have a plan to get there, you better be in my office first thing after the meeting. We’re way behind this month and the fact the Upgrade happened isn’t going to cut it as an excuse anymore. Closers close deals, and it doesn’t matter to a real salesman that tiny alien robot things are infecting the whole place.

“You just need to work a little harder than normal. On that note, starting today, everyone is working bell-to-bell until Monday. For you green pea salesmen that just joined the store, bell-to-bell means you’re here first thing in the morning until the last customer leaves,” Dave, the store’s general manager, announced to the sales staff. Everyone tried, not very successfully, to stifle a groan at the announcement.

The car biz wasn’t an easy one when you considered the long hours, unstable income, and the general dislike everyone you met had for you. For some it was their only option, for others, they saw it as a temporary stop while they waited for a better job to come along. Bob had been around a long time, long enough to know he fit solidly into the first category after having spent many years in the second.

“Everyone also better be doing something productive,” Dave started again. “You don’t want me to catch you sitting at a sales desk unless you’re working a deal. No slinking off to smoke and shoot the bull. The only thing I want to see is you watching the lot, making follow up calls, and putting together deals,” Dave said as he closed out their Friday morning meeting. Bob could care less, having heard the spiel countless times in his long “career” of selling cars.

All he wanted to do today was to head back to his crappy apartment and go back to sleep, not spend the next fourteen hours walking around the lot looking for an up (car lingo for a customer). Maybe he could slip out later and take a demo car over to the Royal Bear Bar. The place was a dump, and had likely always been one even when it was new.

As far as bars went, it had cheap booze and the bartender didn’t judge you for drinking early in the day. In fact, the old geezer that ran the place was usually sauced himself by noon. He had thought years ago that opening his own bar would be his path out of the car business. Bob couldn’t think of a better way to make a living than getting paid to drink away his troubles using booze he bought at dealer cost.

The only problem was opening a bar was the cash needed to do so. Even buying out the decrepit Royal Bear would take a pile of cash, and cash was something Bob didn’t have. It wasn’t always that bad for him, he had once been a manager at a small manufacturing firm before a downturn in the economy had put him out of a job. While waiting for a “real job” he had taken up selling cars to make ends meet.

The long hours and time away from home had cost him a marriage and the last shreds of self-respect he had remaining. After that, the car business became like a drug to Bob, the rush from closing a deal was better than any high. Unfortunately, the rush was becoming harder and harder to score.

Customers knew everything these days and wanted you to kiss their feet and sell them cars for no profit. Even giving away cars at cost didn’t make them happy, the ones that paid the least scored you the lowest on your surveys, killing any chance to hit a bonus. It was all stacked against him, Bob thought, the dealership with their deceptive pay plans, the customers with the incessant demands, and the factory for their stupid surveys.

“When are we going to get more Hammerhead trucks boss? I can sell all of those you can get,” a salesman named Javier said, snapping Bob back from his wandering thoughts.

Javier was referring to the brand’s most popular vehicle, a new model that had just been released a few weeks ago. The truck was renowned for its rugged build, off-road capabilities, and luxurious interior. When a major auto magazine reviewed it as the top-rated truck for the Upgrade, Hammerhead sales went through the roof.

Production was low on the Hammerhead, with each dealer only allocated a few units per month. There was a feeding frenzy out on the lot every time one arrived. Sadly, every Hammerhead in the pipeline for the next three months of production had deposits reserving them. The management had even stopped allowing deposits on upcoming Hammerhead’s since they didn’t know how many they would be allocated.

Every salesman on the lot had a few customers with Hammerheads in the pipeline, every salesman except for Bob, that is. He always had horrible luck when it came to these types of things. One of the other salesmen said Bob could dodge raindrops if they were customers. That’s what he did, dodge raindrops.

If he stood on point watching the lot for customers all day, the one time he went to the bathroom would be when a customer would pull in that could actually buy a car. If he finally did land a live one, it would turn out they had horrible credit and couldn’t get a loan. If he finally took a day off, that would be the day all his previous customers would finally come in to buy a car, forcing him to split the commission with a salesman that working that day.

“It doesn’t take a salesman to sell a Hammerhead, it takes a salesman to flip a Hammerhead customer into a different vehicle, Javier. Become a real salesman and you won’t have to worry about what you have in inventory. Just follow the roadmap and flip them to a different car,” Dave replied, mentioning the dealership's latest training scheme.

Some company had sold the owner on the fact that his training program would double their productivity. It was called the deal roadmap and the guy presenting it had all sorts of data and glossy handouts showing happy salesmen handing the keys to satisfied buyers.

Like pretty much any of these programs Bob had sat in on over his car selling career, it was a bunch of nonsense. These training companies were a dime a dozen and they all spouted the same stuff, forcing the sales staff to “follow the script”. The scrips were always written poorly and sounded stupid, there was no way a customer would suddenly buy a car because you did the proper feature benefit analysis, or his personal favorite, increasing the perceived value of the car instead of discussing the price.

He’d heard it all before and knew where it would lead. Sales would bump for a few days or a couple of weeks since most of the sales staff would be motivated to try a little harder. After that, when sales began to slump, the trainers would blame the salesmen for not following “the process” and probably get a few guys fired. After a few months, the dealership would pull the plug on this particular group of trainers and the sales staff wouldn’t have to worry about it for a few months until the owner found another miraculous sale doubling program that he wanted to try.

“Ok, let’s get out there and get some numbers on the board boys! I’m putting a $100 cash spiff on the first sale today and another hundie on the deal with the highest gross. The money’s out there folks, just get out there and take it!” Dave shouted while hitting the play button on his old boombox. The well-worn machine blared some 80’s heavy metal to “pump up” the sales force as they left. Only the new guys seemed pumped up, they hadn’t learned yet.

“Why does he think that blasting some music will suddenly make me sell a car? It won’t bring a single body onto the lot and I’ve never closed a deal based on the music I heard right before taking an up,” Bob mumbled to himself, frustrated. A hand slammed on his shoulder, startling Bob and causing him to spin around.

“Bobby boy, you gonna get some points on the board for us today, man? You need to get cracking. Man, you used to be the top dog each month, now you’re swimming with the green peas at the bottom of the board,” his manager Mike told him with a smile on his face, slapping his shoulder once more before walking off.

“Got a hot lead I’m working this afternoon, guy over at the tech center wants to see a new convertible. I was going to bring it over and seal the deal when he looks at it in front of his co-workers. You cool if I take one out to the customer for a demo?” Bob asked. Mike wasn’t really paying attention and gave him a thumbs-up as he left.

Bob was going to take that as a yes. He didn’t really have a customer, he just wanted to get away from the store for a couple of hours. One last look at the sales board left him even more depressed. He stood at a paltry four and a half cars sold for the month, placing him squarely in the back of the pack. Of the twenty salespeople, only the two newest guys—whatever their names were—had fewer sales.

His sales manager, Mike, was a decent guy, not as high strung as Dave. Mike was still fairly young and showed at least some respect for the old dogs on the sales team. Bob had worked with all kinds of managers over the years, few were any good since the dealerships like to promote the top salespeople to become the managers.

Anyone who ever sold something knew that sales skills are a completely different thing from management skills. Since he had worked with just about every type of manager, Bob knew how to work the system better than anyone, which was exactly what he was about to do.

Back in his tiny cubicle, Bob got to work on his cover for the day’s activities. He may lack the motivation to sell cars lately, but he hadn’t lost his devious nature. Digging into his old unsold file he looked for the perfect target.

The stacks of pink recap sheets from previous sales were set to the side, those were people that had bought something. What he was looking for couldn’t be a customer he had worked a deal for at this store, he needed one from one of the old dealerships he had worked at. Bob pulled up the pile of the white customer logs and contact sheets he had collected over the years, sorting through and looking for his victim.

It had to be someone from the last few years, someone that was what they called a cockroach. A cockroach was someone that had credit so bad they couldn’t finance a candy bar from the vending machine. Sadly, the stack of sheets recording customers who were declined for bad credit was a big one. He sifted through them until he found his mark. The guy he found was named Lawrence Briggs.

He had come into the last store he worked at and spent a week trying to find a specific color sedan. Bob had jumped through hoops to get the guy what he wanted, even arranging to trade the vehicle to his store from one two hours away. All that work, only to find out that despite having a good job, the guy had apparently never paid a bill in his life.

Bob chuckled, remembering his manager’s interaction with Mr. Briggs that day. The man had been indignant that the dealership couldn’t get him financed, and was pitching a fit on the showroom floor. His manager at the old store, Nasar, had put the guy in his place.

“We have something in common, Mr. Briggs,” Nasar had said with a big smile on his face. The statement had caught the customer off guard and halted his cursing out of Bob and everyone else in the universe.

“Yeah, what?” the man had replied, curious what Nasar was talking about.

“We have one important thing in common. I don’t pay your bills, and you apparently don’t pay your bills either. Get out of my store or I’ll call the cops,” Nasar had said. Mr. Briggs had promptly left the store after that, spouting threats the whole time. The guy was perfect for today’s activities, he worked in the tech field and would appear to be a solid lead to his manager.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Bob waited for the receptionist to step away before heading up to the kiosk by the front door. The receptionist was a pain in the butt, always looking to get the salespeople in trouble. There were as many scams being perpetrated on the salespeople as there were being pulled on the customers. He was convinced the receptionist was running one of the oldest ones in the book.

All the sales calls were routed through the receptionist and she would make sure to privately transfer the best sounding ones to her favorite salespeople. By her favorites, Bob meant the ones that would pay her a little cash under the table for each sale they made off those calls.

Now that she wasn’t there to spy on him, Bob quickly typed Mr. Lawrence Briggs’s information into the computer. Bob made sure to change his phone number and address to a bogus one. He finished just as the receptionist returned, glaring at Bob with distaste.

“What are you doing up here? You better not be going through my desk!” The receptionist, Beatrice, said in an accusatory manner.

“What are you talking about? I was just entering the appointment I have for today,” Bob replied sharply as Beatrice pulled up the customer on her computer, looking at the lead to see if she could ding him on anything.

“When did you take this up? You’re supposed to log a customer as soon as you greet them and I haven’t seen you with anyone today,” she said.

“He’s one of my old customers who called me about another car,” Bob evaded.

“Well…fine, I won’t say anything to Mike about it since he was one of your prior customers,” she relented.

Bob enacted the next phase of his plan. When Mike stepped away from the sales tower, Bob walked in quickly and grabbed a dealer plate. Bob left the showroom, which was full of customers that had wandered in from the service waiting area. The service customers were a huge waste of time, just tire kicking while they waited for their cars to be fixed.

“This one’s perfect,” Bob said to himself, slapping the magnetic plate on the back of red, two-seater convertible.

After opening the lockbox on the window, he pried out the key and fired up the engine. Thankfully, the car had a quarter tank of gas. Half the time, lazy salesman—which Bob admitted he was—drove the cars until the low fuel warning light came on, leaving the job of refueling it to the next poor salesman. They would have to try and pause the test drive to fuel it up, the potential customer losing interest with each minute that passed.

The little car zipped quickly through traffic and Bob inhaled the wonderful new car smell. It was like smoking crack for people when they smelled it. He wondered how many thousands of cars had been sold over the years just because of that scent.

He pulled into the tech center, which was the nickname for a tall office building complex near the dealership that housed several tech companies and consulting firms. To cover himself, Bob would get some guy to pose in front of the car, snap a picture to prove he was here, and then it was off to the Royal Bear for a morning pick me up.

He lucked out and found a space near the entrance, getting out and admiring the car. The sporty convertible was definitely a looker. The model was formerly the most popular car that his brand sold until the stupid Upgrade had pulled all the attention to the new Hammerhead.

A pair of yuppie-looking younger guys in some expensive, designer brand “business casual” attire were heading from the parking lot toward the building. They would be perfect for his plan.

“Hey guys, can you give me a hand with something really quick?” Bob asked as they walked by, feeling somewhat self-conscious in his old suit. The suit had been nice when had bought it a few years ago, now it was a bit shabby and fit too snug over his growing frame. Too many nights subsisting on fast food and booze had taken their toll on his physique.

“What? Oh, is that the turbo model?” one of the guys asked.

“Yep, 355 horses under the hood. I really just need one of you to hop in so I can get a picture. I made a bet with some of the guys that I could get ten different people to sit in the car in the next ten minutes. Give me a hand?” Bob asked.

“Yeah, no problem. You a car salesman? How do you guys end up building your characters if you don’t mind my asking,” one of the guys said as the other waved and headed into the building.

“Guilty as charged, car salesman, at least for now. What do you mean, build my character?” Bob asked curiously as he snapped a picture on his phone of the young man in the car.

“You know, the Upgrade. We all have a character sheet showing skills and abilities. Do you seriously not remember the biggest thing to happen to all mankind?” the man asked, looking at Bob like he was from another planet.

“Bahh, I figured that stuff was all a scam and turned off all that crap. It’s probably just a new way for advertisers to rip us off,” Bob said.

On the day of the Upgrade, he had been nursing the world’s worst hangover after going on a bender the night before. He didn’t have to work that day, so he figured he had time to sleep it off before his next shift. The Upgrade had made his headache worse and Bob spent the afternoon puking. The annoying visions the Upgrade caused finally went away after he “confirmed” he didn’t want to see any of that.

“Ohhh man, you are sooo wrong Mr. Bob,” the young man said.

“I don’t care about that stuff…hey…wait a minute, how did you know my name?” Bob asked. Against company rules, he never wore his nametag when he left the store.

“It’s the Upgrade, my guy, that’s the kind of stuff the upgrade lets you do. You know, you’re kind of like finding a unicorn, someone who is a blank slate. Tell you what, if you got a few minutes, I would love to take a shot at helping you build your character. That’s what I do for a living and working with someone that hasn’t messed up his build already would be a treat,” the man said, handing over his card.

Willie Marth

Consultant

Shadow Sun Total Character Management, LLC.

“Thanks for the offer and all, but I can’t afford a consultant,” Bob said, handing the card back.

“No, keep it. This isn’t a sales pitch; I’m genuinely interested in taking a crack a creating a car salesman build. As far as I know, that build hasn’t been perfected yet and the Upgrade will give me a boatload of XP if I’m the first to design a build. Helping you out will probably level me up, so I won’t charge you a dime if you really haven’t set up anything on your build yet,” Willie said.

“Yeah, ok, I can spare a few minutes if you think it can help,” Bob said, Realizing he was probably going to waste some time and get hooked for a sale.

The unknown truth about car salesmen is that they are suckers for being sold by someone else. Bob followed Willie into the building, finding the place was even nicer than he thought. The office Willie worked in was on the top floor and had a stunning view of the city. Willie had a secretary and everything, it must be nice to have money, Bob figured.

“Sylvia, can we get some refreshments while I work with Mr. Bob Antasi?” Willie asked. The guy even knew his last name, might be something to this Upgrade stuff. Remembering a customer’s name was a must-have skill for any salesman. Bob had even taken a class on how to do it years ago, not that he remembered anything from the class.

Sylvia brought a serving tray filled with fruits and pastries as well as a small carafe of a delicious smelling coffee. Willie began to type away on his computer after motioning for Bob to help himself to the refreshments. Bob didn’t need to be told twice, grabbing a cream cheese pastry, and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Both the coffee and the pastry were delicious. They weren’t the cheap stuff from the grocery store. These baked good cames from a real bakery, Bob figured. A prompt appeared in his vision as Willie did something to his interface.

Willie Marth has requested administrator access to your interface. Confirm approval y/n.

“Nothing to fear Bob my friend, hit yes and I’ll allocate your stats for you,” Willie said. Bob had nothing to lose, acknowledging the request. He nibbled on the pastry as numbers and words flashed by his vision before finally settling into some semblance of order.

Bob Antasi

Level 5 Car Salesman.

Strength: 6.

Constitution: 5.

Intelligence: 11.

Wisdom: 8.

Dexterity: 6.

Charisma:12.

Class skills and abilities:

Spot customer: 6.

Car salesmanship: 4.

Salvage deal: 2.

Deception: 5.

Unspent stat points: 5.

Unspent skill points: 6.

“Kind of a strange set of skills I have to say. You didn’t do anything with your interface yet, so the Upgrade just assigned you the car salesman class. As far as your base stats, you had five unspent attribute points so I’m going to drop one each into wisdom, intelligence, and charisma. The other two I’ll place into constitution. You should feel a bit better physically now. Remember to get some exercise and make good food choices to boost those up. The baseline stats for a human are normally eight to ten in each category. You’re a bit smarter than most and have charisma…even if you don’t think you do. Car Salesmanship, Salvage Deal, and Deception make sense for your line of work. Any idea what Spot Customer means?” Willie asked.

Bob did find he felt a bit better as the allocated stats went to work. He was breathing easier and didn’t feel as run down. Maybe needed to pay more attention to this Upgrade stuff.

“Wow, thanks for that. As far as Spot Customer, that’s the most important skill on a car lot. We get so many looky loo’s and time-wasters that show up, they can keep you from finding a real customer. Maybe the Upgrade is considering my experience dealing with mooches, roaches, and tire kickers?” Bob replied. Willie thought for a moment, nodding before replying.

“Yeah, I see how that’s important. Before I decide on allocating skill points, are you averse to going with an aggressive build? I’m thinking we pump up your Spot Customer skill to let you find the best opportunities on the lot. After you find them, your other skills come into play and will naturally increase as you use them. Stack spot customer when you level again. After a few levels, you can start to allocate points in a more balanced manner…sound good?” Willie asked. Bob wasn’t sure what to think but zeroing in on the real buyers would be a lifesaver for him.

“Sounds good to me, anything else you can think of?” Bob asked.

“Hmmm, we do need to think about some combat skills…you know, just in case,” Willie said.

“That’s crazy, we live in the city and have police, the military, and all the wannabe heroes to take care of any Upgrade problems. I don’t even think half those stories are true, just the government trying to find a way to increase our taxes,” Bob replied confidently.

“Okay, your choice my friend. Let me make the final adjustments to bring your Spot Customer skill to 12. That’s higher than the average, which means average for people in your profession. You should also consider that you are the only purposely built, car salesman class I know of. Most of your co-workers will have negligible skills in these areas as they are likely building toward a different end game plan. Needless to say, most folks don’t see being a car salesman as their end goal in life, no offense Bob,” Willie says holding up his hands in apology.

“Yeah, I get it, car salesmen are evil and all that. I guess I should thank you for helping me out, I’m actually excited to see it in action,” Bob said while using Spot Customer on Willie.

Potential sale rating: 12%.

Vehicle of choice: Hammerhead.

“Ugggh, not you too Willie, what is it with the Hammerhead trucks?” Bob lamented.

“Best in slot my friend, get used to it. I’ll tell you what, if you do come across one in the Cobalt Grey Pearl color with the BossenCarmen sound system, I’ll take it at full price. No, for a client that just helped me ding level 15, I’ll pay 20% over full price,” Willie replied.

“Sure, I don’t know when I can get ahold of one, but if I do, it’s yours,” Bob said, standing to shake hands with Willie.

“All right, good luck with the sales and stay safe out there,” Willie told him as he left.

Bob was finally in a good mood. That Willie wasn’t a bad guy, and his advice might even help him to make a buck or two. The consultant hadn’t even charged for his services.

There was no way Bob would afford whatever consultant fee the guy probably normally charged. The cost had to be pretty steep, based on the expensive office and the clothes Willie had worn. Bob didn’t even think about heading to the Royal Bear, well, at least he didn’t think about it too much. Instead, he drove back to the lot, eager to try out his new skills

Bob parked the convertible back in its place and waited for the manager to leave the sales tower before signing in his dealer plate. He even put some fake notes in the system about his fake customer “Lawrence Briggs”.

He would pretend to get excited later and ask his manager to help him close the deal over the phone, only to pretend to be disappointed when the phone number turned out to be a fake. Just another customer lying to a salesman. Mike would eat up that excuse and only berate him a bit for not confirming the number.

It was game time, time to sell some cars, time to earn some cash.

***

Dear reader, let’s take a break here to discuss the Character Management services that popped up and then quickly disappeared in the first months after Upgrade. In the early days, many people were confused with skill points, abilities, and the leveling process. These character managers were usually spinoffs from the large financial planning firms and were looking to cash in on the newest thing.

The initial demand was strong, but eventually, people learned that just looking up a class wiki or a quick web search turned up the same useful information these “managers” could provide. There are none of these companies open today, save for a few high-end ones you likely never heard about. The few remaining ones cater to the elites and incorporate a level pathing service with a variety of skill trainers for their clients to utilize. Bob Antasi was one of the few people to greatly benefit from a character manager, as to whether that did him any good in the long run…