The Ultimaxx 4000 XT Super Deluxe

own a piece of american history

To the lay person, The Ultimaxx 4000 XT Super Deluxe is an unassuming, if impressively clean 1997 Buick LeSabre, a model that (for obvious reasons) held the title of best selling full sized car in North America when it was inexplicably discontinued in 2004. But The Ultimaxx 4000 XT Super Deluxe was no average '97 LeSabre. This car was repeatedly responsible for altering the course of American history. AND NOW IT'S FOR SALE.

History Underway

Soren Björnstråm and Ingrid Flüttergöp Svensson arrived in America in 1987 with three suitcases, a profound misunderstanding about what "the land of opportunity" meant, and four children. The eldest was Flüggerbörn, a name, the inspiration for which was someone sneezing while playing a trombone. Flüggerbörn spent most of his adolescence in the office of the guidance counselor. The second child, a daughter, Krüptflüttergöss had learned early on that introducing herself at American schools involved impossible phonetic negotiation and just went by "Krüpt." The third, Björk-Sven, had similarly given up and started telling people her name was "B.S." which, while completely reasonable, created its own problems she could not have anticipated. The baby was Fred, who went by "Fred."

The Svensson's Win a 1997 Buick LeSabre

The next ten years were consumed—comprehensively and without mercy—by immigration paperwork. Forms begat forms; each completed form spawned three new ones, each requiring signatures in triplicate from Notaries who seemed to have way too many days of vacation. Soren developed a twitch in his left eye. Ingrid learned to say "We will try again next week" in a perfect American accent. The children aged, learned English, and watched their parents slowly disappear into a Kafkaesque bureaucratic nightmare that made actual Kafka look like Beverly Cleary.

By 1997, they had moved to California, where they built a humble home out of paper mache, from rejected visa applications and saliva, copious volumes of which was easily produced when pronouncing their first three children's names.

Then thirteen, and on a confused day trip to Las Vegas with her parents and siblings—a trip undertaken under the mistaken impression that the city was a "family desert oasis "—B.S. inserted a quarter into what she assumed was a candy machine in an arcade. In reality, the arcade was a casino and the candy machine a slot machine. What emerged, other than the sound of alarm bells and bright lights—luckily for America—was not candy—it was a single brass token. The Svenssons had just won a brand new 1997 Buick LeSabre in the shade "Light Adriatic Blue Pearl," a description that suggested someone had once seen the color blue and decided to have strong opinions about it.

The LeSabre becomes the
The Ultimaxx 4000 XT Super Deluxe

Soren Björnstråm Svensson, having worked his way up to foreman in the Hollywood set-carpentry trade, had developed a philosophy about cinema that was, to put it mildly, philosophically unsound. He spent his days constructing elaborate facades—yet remained utterly convinced that the films produced within and around these fake structures were documentary records of actual historical events. If a film showed someone traveling through time, under the power of a flux capacitor and a Mr. Fusion, then time travel was real.

There is a general rule regarding movies: They are fake. And Soren was about to stumble upon Hollywood's singular exception. An exception that would prove his otherwise universal delusion: Back to the Future was, in fact, a real, CIA-funded series used to recruit and train temporal agents. The flux capacitor and the Mr. Fusion Home Energy Reactor were real, functional devices; in fact, the only existing such devices in the world.

This was, of course, not information available to the soundstage workers who threw all the props into dumpsters without a second thought when filming wrapped.

So when Soren discovered a flux capacitor and a Mr. Fusion in a dumpster, his reasoning was not complicated. These components would make a car travel through time, and would be a great addition to the LeSabre.

The installation took three weeks and involved the whole family. Flüggerbörn offered technical suggestions gleaned from his shop class. Krüpt held the flashlight. B.S. held screwdrivers and discussed with her mother how it turned out her nickname in America was apparently somewhat vulgar, and inquired if it would be ok to change her name to Dübberflöpp-Ömpherfläff-Rützelsnört-Krüppeldorf. Ingrid brought coffee and did not ask questions. She thought B.S.' name change seemed a reasonable cultural consideration. Fred sat in the driver's seat making engine noises.

On a Tuesday evening in late October, Soren connected the final wire. The Buick hummed with newfound enthusiasm. The Light Adriatic Blue Pearl seemed to shimmer almost like stainless steel.

Sharpie in hand, Soren scooted Fred over on the luxurious front bucket-bench combo seat, and with a smile on his face, drew a mark 3 miles past 85 on the speedometer, announcing to the family as coolly as he could in the hilarious-sounding Swedish: "This car needs a new name."

The Ultimaxx 4000 XT Super Deluxe Molds American History

What followed were ten years of aggressive historical meddling. Risky? Yes. Irresponsible? Without question. But it's fair to say that without Soren's meddling, America as we know it wouldn’t exist. YOU might not exist. THAT is how valuable this car is to American history: a fact that all potential buyers should keep in mind as they furiously work to out-bid their competitors for this one-of-a-kind priceless treasure.

How valuable to our history? Soren loaned the car he had dubbed the "Ultimaxx 4000 XT Super Deluxe" to NASA for the Apollo 17 mission. Without the contributions of the Ultimaxx, we may never have learned that the moon is made of worthless dust and rocks.

The Svensson's loaned the car to Paul Revere on April 18th, 1775, preventing what would have been a catastrophic horseback clotheslining of the patriot on a tree branch in the dark.

When Abraham Lincoln found himself running behind schedule on November 19th, 1863, Soren handed over the keys; Lincoln arrived at Gettysburg not only on time, but nearly 11 hours early, baffling everybody.

Abraham_Lincoln_stepping_out_of_a_1997_Buick_LeSabre_in_Civil_War_era_black_and_white_phot

James Dean borrowed it one afternoon in 1955, and was captured posed against the hood, achieving an unprecedented level of coolness that would fortunately influence Fonzie and unfortunately influence Grease.

On Christmas Eve, 1776, George Washington faced the prospect of crossing the Delaware by boat on a freezing night. The Svenssons time-machine-enabled foreknowledge alerted them that Washington would have frozen to death and we all would have ended up with bad teeth and unacceptably drinking tea un-iced. So they intervened, and George instead drove his army over the Delaware bridge in the Ultimaxx. History has lost their reaction, but legend has it they loved the heater, which still works. The AC may or may not, but George didn't need it and neither do you- unless you're a weak communist.

The Ultimaxx 4000 XT Super Deluxe is Sold to Taylor Swift

As so many teenage girls do, D.O.R.K. became Swiftie. In 1992 Soren and Ingrid took her to a Taylor Swift concert in the Ultimaxx. This was Ingrid's idea. Soren went because he's a good dad. Swift was 3 years old at the time, so they chose to go to the future. In retrospect, they might have preferred 3 year old Swift, but nonetheless, they chose to hit up 2009.

D.O.R.K. had recently realized she'd made things worse with her new name, and was currently awaiting verification documents for her new legal name she was convinced wouldn't accidentally mean something else, Lübberflöpp-Ömpherplörp-Lüpperdorf. At the time, she was right.

The concert was a bust, but they did hang out with Swift after the party. (Effective time travelers can arrange such things, you know.) Attracted by the idea of time travel, and drunk with power, Swift offered to pay handsomely for the car, which of course the Svennsons politely declined. (Correctly assuming Swift would use it for evil, not good as they usually did.)

In his frustration over having irresponsibly risked the future of the human race, Soren removed the flux capacitor and the Mr. Fusion and swore they'd never be used for pop concert attendance again. He still sold the car to Swift for $12.3 Million. and L.O.L. enjoyed the concert, so he felt it was worth it.

The Ultimaxx 4000 XT Super Deluxe Comes to Kansas

Having been swindled, Swift discarded the fabulous and solid vehicle, oblivious to its historical worth. She might have known, had Gutzon Borglum's original Mount Rushmore design been realized, which included the Ultimaxx, which arguably was as important to the history of the United States as were the four men depicted on the monument. It's exclusion was the beginning of the loss of the Ultimaxx from American history.

Over time, the car made its way from owner to owner (as used cars do), it's historical significance having been lost to the relentless sands of time. The Ultimaxx 4000 XT Super Deluxe slowly became "just" a '97 LeSabre and destiny brought it to Haysville, Kansas, where it became the property of Bob and Ruth Curless. Ruth, a card-carrying member of the Daughters of the American Revolution, was the main driver, often taking it to the local IGA for groceries, all the while oblivious to the fact that she was driving a priceless and integral part of the very history her organization's membership celebrates.

As time marched on, Ruth and Bob passed from this life, and although they had to leave their beloved LeSabre behind, they didn't need it in heaven, what with the angelic wings and superior mass transit system.

The LeSabre was inherited by their grandson Luke Lassey in 2021, at the time a high school freshman. Few pictures of him and the Ultimaxx exist other than the one pictured here, featuring Luke's young sister Rebekah throwing up gang signs, because she must always "represent." Luke fixed it up and drove it every day for 4 years. Having upgraded to a Chevy (with zero historical value whatsoever) on his way to college, he kindly left it to me, his father, Dr. Vance Lassey.

It was I who ultimately realized the utterly unique historical significance of this magnificent feat of engineering perfection. Alas, I am not really a history buff, don't need a car, and I need the $ millions the sale of this car is likely to bring to expand my family medicine clinic and further my efforts at bringing affordable, accessible, and high-quality healthcare to my neighbors in rural Jackson County. Whatever's left after that will go to my church and maybe I'll buy a couple cases of Diet Mountain Dew.

Information for prospective buyers and historical collectors

The discriminating historical collector or Taylor Swift fan will most likely keep this vehicle in a glass case, and/or loan it to the Smithsonian for public display, perhaps driving it every 25-50 years in special parades, entertaining visiting royalty, etc.

However, in the unlikely event that the future owner fails to truly appreciate the historical significance of this marvel, there are reasons to drive this car more often than in presidential parades.

Consider for instance, this log of recent service:

(All mechanic work done by the 14-year owner and I,

after watching strangers do it on YouTube. This is

presumably equal or superior to any well-trained,

life-long practiced ASE-ertified technician. We include

all of this expertise at no additional charge.)

2021:

New engine seals & gaskets
New upper intake manifold
Reconditioned lower intake manifold
Numerous sensors replaced
New spark plugs and plug wires
New water pump
New air filter

2024:

New alternator
New battery
New fuel filter
New fuel pump
New belt tensioner pulley
New tires ("tyres" for the Brits)

2025:

New starter
Push pins installed in ceiling to hold the headliner up. These are quality push pins, that could be repurposed with a bulletin board, and will be included at no additional charge.

Some would argue that The Ultimaxx 4000 XT Super Deluxe has lived through it's glory days and is now just a good car for some High School kid. And sure—it no longer has time-travel capability, but it does have a GM 3800 Series II engine with only 161,000 miles on it. This car was made when men were men. For crying out loud, this vehicle has—count 'em— FOUR ash trays. (Speaking of which, this may be the only used car for sale in the United States that doesn’t smell like weed, another perk of the Ultimaxx 4000 XT Super Deluxe.) Reliable mechanics have assured me this engine will go 250,000 to 300,000 miles with routine maintenance. It will still get you to the future, just more slowly. It will gladly drive many a high-schooler to school in it's airbag-enabled safety cocoon and does zero-to-sixty in a safe and reasonable minute, give or take, making it a great choice for a teenage boy who watches a lot of Dukes of Hazzard reruns.

The engine runs fine. The engine light is on, throwing a code that the engine is "missing." Well, duh. If I was this car I'd be missing too—missing the flux capacitor, which is what makes time travel possible.

The Ultimaxx 4000 XT Super Deluxe yearns to take its new owner to the future once again, changing history for the glory of the United States of America, the driver's map gently illuminated by the warm amber glow that only an engine light can bestow.