(message: Tiny: Don't let appearances fool ya. This baby may be a relic, I mean, a classic, but she's as dependable as the day we got her. And just think, you'll be the only one in the quadrant with one. I guarantee it!) (message: Tiny: She's a beaut, isn't she? This little baby can do a spin around the planet in just under an hour. Look at the lines in that body work. They just don't make 'em like this anymore, ya' know what I mean? And she's a real bargain at 185 buckazoids.) (message: Tiny: I tell ya, I think you've made a wise decision. She's a beauty. The keys are in her. If you have any problems don't hesitate to come back and tell us about 'em.) (message: Tiny: It's been a heckuva pleasure doin' business with you. Well, good luck. Come again!) (message: You shell out the buckazoids and hop in. Anxiously, you fire it up and lift off.) (Roger's ship crashes into the dunes in the distance.) (message: Darn the luck, Roger Wilco. You've crashed in the dunes and ended your life. The various inhabitants of the Keronian desert are now feasting on what remains of you. Guess that wasn't such a hot purchase.)

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