An investment banker had saved really hard for the past week to be able to get enough money to buy himself his first Aston Martin.
He left the showroom proud as punch and set out for a quick spin up the M1.
After a few miles, he decided to try and work out how to link his iPod with the Aston Martin's sound system and fiddled about with the controls until it started to work.
Unfortunately, with his mind elsewhere and driving in excess of 100 miles an hour, he smashed straight into the central reservation of the motorway, and the new car flipped over several times before coming to a halt on the hard shoulder.
The banker managed to get out of the car, but was completely distraught.
"My Aston Martin", he screamed. "My brand new Aston Martin."
Jumping up and down and shouting until his face was purple drew attention to his plight and, seeing how upset he was, a fellow driver stopped and tried to help.
"Sir, sir, you're bleeding," said the good samaritan. "And, oh my god, look! Your left arm is gone!"
The banker looked and sure enough, his arm had been severed.
So upset had he been with the car's damage that he hadn't noticed, but was now horrified to realise his arm had gone.
"My Rolex", he screamed. "Where's my Rolex?"