1994 Dodge Shadow, No Reserve on 2040-cars

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Chop the top of your new Dodge Viper for $35,000

We have good news, and we have bad news. First, the good: It's now possible to get a brand-new Dodge Viper roadster, which is nice, considering we're in the dead of summer and many of us like wind-in-the-hair motoring. Now, the bad: This is not a factory option from the automaker, instead coming courtesy of an aftermarket company called Prefix Performance, and that means it's going to cost you some serious coin.
Called Medusa, this drop-top Viper was created without the knowledge or consent of Dodge, but that's probably fine because Prefix works with the automaker already for the final preparation of the American supercar, including paint. According to the company, the current, fifth-gen Viper was built with a convertible version in mind, so no chassis strengthening is required. From the looks of the somewhat grainy photos available, the conversion appears of very high quality.
Want one? Well, that means you're going to need to procure a Viper - Prefix has 10 units ready for transformation as it stands - and that's going to cost at the very least $102,485. Then, you'll need to write a check for an additional $35,000 for Prefix to surgically remove the car's roof. Thing is, for that kind of cash, a prospective owner could buy, among other very nice options, a Viper hardtop and a loaded Miata, or a Corvette Stingray convertible and several pockets full of change. Or, perhaps a new Viper hardtop and a used, first-gen Viper convertible?

2016 Dodge Viper ACR First Drive [w/video]

The Dodge Viper is not a comfortable car. Livable, yes. The interior is covered in fine materials. But you still climb over a hot door sill to enter the tiny cabin. And the frequency range of the engine's noises seem specifically designed to cause headaches. What happens, then, if you remove all pretense of civility from a Viper and add equipment solely aimed at improving lap times? You would have the 2016 Dodge Viper ACR. In terms of achieving its purpose, this car is a absolute success. In many ways it's also the most honest Viper of the current generation. Prices start at $121,990 (including $2,100 gas-guzzler tax and $1,995 destination), or $32,900 more than the least expensive Viper. In ACR trim, the Viper loses the under-carpet padding, 9 of 12 speakers plus amplifier, carpet and trim from the cargo area, and sound deadening in front of the rear wheel wells. The parts of the interior still covered add healthy amounts of Alcantara or optional carbon fiber. That weight loss is compensated by the addition of go-fast bits like the giant rear wing (or the larger "x-wing" on the Extreme Aero Package), 10-way adjustable Bilstein Motorsports shocks, Brembo carbon-ceramic brakes, a rear diffuser, and a front splitter. Total claimed curb weight is 3,392 pounds in Aero trim (standard ACR trim is 18 pounds lighter), which is within a few stone of the rest of the Viper lineup. The diffuser strakes and leading edge of the splitter are removable, made to be replaced after rubbing on track tarmac and make street driving slightly more practical. Not that you'd want to drive the ACR on the street, with the lack of noise insulation and spring rates twice as stiff as the Viper TA, but it is street-legal. Dodge claims the DOT-approved Kumho Ecsta V720 tires on the ACR allow faster lap times than some race compound tires. Our test was limited to on-track shenanigans at Virginia International Raceway. Which is fitting because we wouldn't have anything good to say about driving the car on the street. The ACR is, essentially, a race car sold in the showroom, although with the Viper's 1 of 1 customization program, your custom build can include as many creature comforts as you like. Lined up in pit lane at VIR, the Viper ACRs for our evaluation blur the air with heat shimmer. All of the test cars have air conditioning, but that shuts off at full throttle with a six-second reset.

Auto Mergers and Acquisitions: Suicide or salvation?

We love the Moses figure. A savior riding in from stage right with the ideas, the smarts, and the scrappiness to put things right. Alan Mullaly. Carroll Shelby. Lee Iacocca. Andrew Carnegie. Steve Jobs. Elon Musk. Bart Simpson. Sergio Marchionne does not likely view himself with Moses-like optics, but the CEO of Fiat Chrysler Automobiles recently gave a remarkable, perhaps prophetic interview with Automotive News about his interest and the inevitability of merging with a potential automotive partner like General Motors. Marchionne has been overtly public about his notion that GM must merge with FCA. For a bit of context, GM sold 9.9 million vehicles in 2014, posting $2.8 billion in net income, while FCA sold 4.75 million units and earned $2.4 billion in net income, painting a very rosy FCA earnings-to-sales picture. But that's not the entire picture. Most people in the auto industry still remember the trainwreck that was the DaimlerChrysler "merger" written in what turned out to be sand in 1998. It proved to be a master class in how not to fuse two companies, two cultures, two continents, and two management teams. Oh, it worked for the two individuals at both helms pre-merger. They got silly rich. And the industry itself was in a misty romance at the time with mergers and acquisitions. BMW bought Rolls-Royce. Volkswagen Group bought Bentley, Bugatti, and Lamborghini, putting all three brands into their rightful place in both products and positioning. No marriages there, so no false pretense. Finally, Nissan and Renault got married in 1999. A successful marriage requires several rare elements in this atmosphere of gas fumes and power lust. But a successful marriage requires several rare elements in this atmosphere of gas fumes and power lust, the principle part being honesty. Daimler and Chrysler lied to each other. The heads of each unit, the product planners, and finance all presented their then-current and long-range forecasts to each other with less-than-forthright accuracy. Daimler was the far greater equal and no one from the Chrysler side enjoyed that. The cultures were entirely different, too, and little was done to bridge that gap. Which brings me back to the present overtures by Marchionne to GM. "There are varying degrees of hugs," Marchionne stated in the Automotive News piece. "I can hug you nicely, I can hug you tightly, I can hug you like a bear, I can really hug you." Seriously?