Unlike some other cars in VW’s lineup, today’s Corrado didn’t come with a name derived from a wind, but instead from the Spanish word for ‘run.’ Let’s see if this running g60 is worth running over to buy.

Have you ever noticed how dramatic the difference is when you see a formerly two-tone car or truck that is now rocking one shade head to tow-hook? It’s like that teen movie trope where the seemingly meek and average-looking girl is suddenly rendered adorkably beautiful simply by the removal of her glasses and the switching out her baggy ensemble for a slinky prom dress.

I notice it when I see Honda Elements with painted fenders, and we all saw it with yesterday’s resprayed . Now, I’m not saying that the original Previa style, with its charcoal rockers and bumpers needed improvement—I love that look—but this one’s fresh coat of pearly blue all over made it look somehow... oh I don’t know, more contemporary? A few of you commented a similar sentiment. That feeling was reflected in the vote on its meager $2,999 price tag, and that egg-elicious minivan walked away with a good looking 68-percent Nice Price win.

The Previa was one of Toyota’s boldest styling statements. So much so that we still marvel at its audacity in the present tense. Styling is a major factor in the success or failure of any automative model. Remember that the universal rules for success in life are: #1: Be beautiful. #2: Don’t be ugly. It doesn’t get any more simple than that. Except when it doesn’t work.

Volkswagen’s Corrado, introduced here for the 1990 model year, was a remarkably handsome car. Well balanced and timeless, the Corrado’s lines harkened back to the orginal Giugiaro-designed Scirocco and made the intervening MKII Scirocco look like a fat slob with bad hair and an ill-fitting suit.

Underneath that pretty boy physique was a solid chassis with a taut suspension adapted from the GTI, while power came from a selection of innovative and efficient engines.

And seemingly, it was all for naught.

Volkswagen sold fewer than 18,000 Corrados during the model’s five-year run here, and in fact eventually had to ship some off the unsold models back to Germany since they were just taking up space here.

This obviously stayed here. Rocking “Nugget Yellow” (worst name ever, btw) paint over a grey mouse fur interior, this 97K-mile coupe also sports the rare and finicky g60 1.8-litre four. The engine’s agnomen refers to the weird snail within a snail G-Lader supercharger and its 60 mm intake inlet. That blower helped the little SOHC four-pot make 157 horsepower and 166 lb-ft of torque.

Those numbers may seem annoyingly picayune today, but keep in mind that the same year this car arrived, the Mustang GT was only putting out 220-horsepower and 300 lb-ft from its five litres of V8.

Okay, so beauty and —at least some—muscle on tap, what’s the downside here? Well, the ad is a little frightening. First off, there’s not much in the way of description outside of its condition being labeled as ‘fair.’ Now, I know that when you were a kid, being fair was touted as a good thing. Play fair, your mom would tell you and your brother. That’s not fair, you’d whine when that same brother got more ice cream than you. It was just how we all saw life in the simplistic confines of a child’s mind.

Now I’m sure that you all know that life isn’t fair and when it comes to cars ‘fair’ isn’t necessarily a good thing. What makes this car fair is that while it’s seemingly solid, sporting only a few dings and dents in the body work, it sports a sunroof that pops but doesn’t do the electric slide (boogie-oogie-oogie), and an interior that is shown both intact and in parts out of the car. What’s that all about?

, or go if the ad disappears.

H/T to FauxShizzle on the Twitter for the hookup!

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