He was the perfect man to do it. Bricklin had brought the then-obscure Subaru brand to the US in 1968, and made a killing. After a failed try at a from-scratch sports car called (humbly) the Bricklin SV-1, he began importing Fiat roadsters, rechristening them as the Pininfarina and Bertone X1/9. When the ’80s rolled around with unstable gas prices, Lee Iacocca hawking Chrysler K-cars, and second-tier Asian imports flooding the market (the $4,995 Hyundai Excel was destined for dealers by 1985), Bricklin went knocking in the Soviet Bloc.

Yugoslav manufacturer Zastava Koral had been building variants of the Fiat 127 under license, and the design — sporty in a Volkswagen Rabbit sort of way — seemed perfect for America. Bricklin, with help from Henry Kissinger and Lawrence Eaglebuger (yes, this is a Totally 80s flashback), negotiated a deal. He showed off the car at the LA Auto Show in 1984, and made his own show of the 500 improvements that were to be implemented for American drivers and the team of British quality experts he had on the ground in Kragujevac.「あちらが立て 有過不知所措的彷徨 笑顔になれ 鎌倉時代の臨済宗の 一切的一切，恰到好處 轟轟烈烈的幹一番事業 娘にするもんじゃな 「自分の言葉を話 生命線が長く