Fairclough at the Close

The trucks and cars weren’t selling for the Fagan team that night.
Not a deal was written with the time to close in sight.
So when Clapper couldn’t close a guy and Hill was just ignored.
It seemed the night would end with one big zero on the board.

A couple salesman just went home.  The rest behind weren’t far.
For all had lost the slightest hope of selling just one car.
But they thought if, maybe, Fairclough, could show them what he knows.
They’d put even money now, with Fairclough at the close.

But Jim was next in line and then the last resort was Pat.
Jim went in and told him this and Pat then told him that.
He then got up and tried to walk, now Heaven only knows.
If there’s the slightest chance of Fairclough getting to the close.

But Jim and Pat then grabbed the guy and threw him in his chair.
They slammed the door upon him.  He weren’t going anywhere.
The order then was given and a cheer from all arose.
For Fairclough!  Big Bob Fairclough was advancing to the close.

There was poise in Fairclough’s manner, as he straightened up his tie.
He was cockier than ever!  You could see it in his eye.
And as the trembling customer awaited certain fate.
Fairclough took his sweet-ass time.  He made the poor guy wait.

The time had come to enter, like so many times before.
He burst into the office and he loudly slammed the door.
“Now tell me, friend, what I must do, or say that you will buy.”
“First release my arm, please,” was the customer’s reply.

“I like the Geo Metro!  I will buy it you can bet.
But I must get four thousand for my eighty-three Chevette.
One hundred thousand miles really isn’t all that much.
All it needs is brakes and motor.  Tranny and a clutch!”

Though he smiled in his frustration and he knew there was no way.
He asked “if I can get you that, will you then buy today?”
“Perhaps I would,” the man replied, his face a puzzled frown,
“But also I would like to see the Metro price come down.”

By now the bear was losing it.  He slapped the man and said,
“You sign this fricking contract or I’m going to bust your head!”
In fear the man then grabbed the pen.  He quickly signed his name.
As Fairclough proudly smiled, most robust in his acclaim.

Oh somewhere in the auto-world, high gross are being made.
The customers are buying somewhere and the salesman getting paid.
Across the nations showrooms, all the salesman laugh and joke.
But there is no joy at Fagan’s, mighty Fairclough closed a stroke.