Which Wild Thing Scares You Less? 1978 Toyota Celica vs 1998 Lincoln MkVIII

Happy Friday, Autopians! After yesterday’s snooze-fest modern cars, I felt the need to swing the pendulum the other way with something really weird, and I was able to do so with the help of a reader. I’m quite sure none of you are actually going to want either of these, but with luck, they’ll at least amuse you.

And about yesterday: it looks like all the classic rock puns in the world couldn’t help that Dodge Journey. It’s a little earlier than I usually call these things, but there’s no way the Dodge is catching up to the Hyundai Accent, so we’ll give the little silver sedan with the stained seats the win.

As for my choice? I don’t care. These are boring. Let’s talk about something else. Oh, I have to pick, because I made you do so? Fine. Whatever. Journey, I guess.

So last night, I got an email from Matt, forwarding me a suggestion for a Showdown car from reader StillNotATony. And immediately, I knew I had seen a worthy competitor for it recently; I just had to find it again. Both of these cars are the victims of terribly botched cosmetic surgery, like some D-grade automotive version of Face/Off. (Which I guess would just be an automotive version of Face/Off, come to think of it.) And the weirdness doesn’t stop there. Brace yourselves; we’re in for a bumpy ride today.

1978 Toyota Celica GT – $3,500

Engine/drivetrain: Turbocharged 2.2-liter OHC inline 4, five-speed manual, RWD

Location: Dublin, VA

Odometer reading: 75,000 miles

Operational status: “Only driven in my driveway”

No, you’re not seeing things. Yes, it’s really a Celica. This ’78 Celica GT liftback has been modified with a fiberglass fifth-generation Chevy Camaro front clip. Why? I have no idea. But the mods don’t stop there. The interior is gutted, the rear end is tubbed for slicks, and the engine, well, let’s just take a look, shall we?

Powering this beast is what was probably the stock original 20R, but it now features a draw-through turbocharger setup and a big-ass Holley carburetor. The seller claims its output is “maybe 220 hp,” or a little more than double the stock output. It runs, but hasn’t really been tested out yet – the seller says it has not left their driveway. This beast of an engine drives a narrowed 9″ Ford rear axle through what I fear is the stock Toyota five-speed manual transmission. If so, best of luck to it.

Inside, it has one threadbare racing seat, a cheap Grant steering wheel, and a skull gearshift knob that’s actually kinda cool. I wonder if it’s the kind with the light-up eyes? It also has a partial roll cage, but we have no way of knowing how well it was built. At least it’s a nod to safety.

The part of the body between the Camaro nose and the tubbed rear fenders seems to be stock and in average to rough condition. There’s a little rust, but not much. The car was originally silver, but I don’t know how you can build a car like this and paint it any color besides fire-engine red. Actually, I don’t know how you can build a car like this full stop, but that’s neither here nor there.

1998 Lincoln Mark VIII – $2,600

Engine/drivetrain: 4.6-liter DOHC V8, four-speed automatic, RWD

Location: Adell, WI

Odometer reading: 86,000 miles

Operational status: Runs and drives surprisingly well

The final Lincoln Mark series coupe, the Mark VIII, is a really nice car. It’s based on the MN-12 Ford Thunderbird, but with a few special touches, including air-ride suspension and a quad-cam version of Ford’s modular V8. In stock form, it’s a nice-looking but sort of bland personal luxury coupe. Well, someone in Idaho decided to make this one a lot less bland and grafted on the front clip from a 1955 Pontiac Chieftain, along with a set of ginormous tailfins made, according to the seller, from “conduit, fiberglass, Bondo, and license plates.” Nothing but the best for such a fine luxury automobile, I guess.

Mechanically, it’s all stock, and before you write it off as a piece of junk, notice that I said it was built in Idaho. The seller lives in Wisconsin. They road-tripped it home, and said it did great. Not a hiccup in nearly three thousand miles, and it averaged 28 miles per gallon. Even the air-ride suspension, usually an Achilles’ heel in these cars, works perfectly. It may look like some Mad Max-inspired Jet Age fever dream, but it’s actually a reliable car. It does have a small oil leak from one valve cover that could use fixing, but that’s about it.

I’m giving you another look at the outside, in the place where I usually show you the inside. There’s only one interior photo in the ad, and if you click on the ad, you’ll understand why I didn’t use it. All I can tell you about the interior is that the fore-aft adjustment of the power driver’s seat is broken, the air conditioning is out, and the fuel gauge only works half the time.

For decades, the defining characteristic of the Lincoln Mark coupes was a hump in the trunk lid, sort of a vestigial faux spare tire. It got smaller and less prominent with each model, and by the Mark VIII it was barely there. And as it turns out, if you add something even gaudier to the rear end, you don’t notice it at all. Those tailfins are, well, they’re a choice, and while I don’t personally like them, I have to admire the dedication. I don’t know how much of the red staining is rust and how much is faux patina, but I suppose it doesn’t really matter.

Extensive modifications to a car are always a matter of personal taste. More power to you if you want to really go for it and make a car your own, but you have to understand that such modifications might make it a hard sell for someone else. I applaud the sellers of these two cars for not reaching for the stars with their prices. These are both, and I mean this with utter respect, shitboxes, and priced accordingly. But maybe one of them will find a buyer who appreciates it. I’m guessing that buyer isn’t you, but for the purposes of our game, you must choose. Which one will it be?

The post Which Wild Thing Scares You Less? 1978 Toyota Celica vs 1998 Lincoln MkVIII appeared first on The Autopian.