"Here!" shouted the spotter.
A wide grin grew on the auctioneer's face, "And that's one-point-one million to the lovely lady in the back. Thank-you, ma'am. Do I hear one-point-two?" This bidding war had been going on for about fifteen minutes, and just when it seemed about ready to die, wham! He jumped back to the middle-aged man in the charcoal jacket, "Sir? One-point-two is the next bid. One-point-two?"
The gentleman let out a breath, and his spotter was working him for even a penny over one-point-one. What better way to get another bid than to pull some emotional strings?
"Do I hear one-point-two?"
Silence.
The gentleman shook his head.
It took only ten seconds for the lady in the back to clap her puffy hands and cheer for her prize:
The very last Twinkie.
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