Q, Fetch the Aston Martin, please!

James Bond's car is up for sale.

I'd buy it myself except for the fact that the .30 caliber Browning machine guns are just props. I mean, what's the point?

Still, I know a few people I'd love to show the ejection seat.

The most serious danger, of course, is that someone with teenaged kids will purchase it.

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Teenager: Dad, can I take the Aston Martin down to the grocery to buy some crisps and Coca-Cola (product placement, you know)? I promise not to deploy the tire slasher again!

Dad: Oh, all right...but if I hear you've been spraying the streets with oil or smoking up the expressway, I'll have belt to your hide, lad! (Thinking to himself) I better not tell him I had the Brownings made fully operational and loaded. He's liable to head right down to the park to impress his girlfriend by shooting at the pidgeons.

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If I were Sean Connery, I'd run right out to the auction and purchase the thing. The man should be buried in it, when he passes away.

I just have the sinking feeling I'm going to be walking the streets one day and it'll drive by with someone like Bob Saget or David Crosby behind the wheel. That would be wrong in so many ways.