IT was a publicity stunt within a publicity stunt. Seanie FitzPatrick's Beemer was about to be crushed and the man who paid €3,150 for the privilege was dancing on the bonnet, his bare arms waving in the air.
Concy Ryan was hamming it up for the photographers and clearly enjoying himself.
But where was the disgruntled Anglo Irish Bank shareholder National Recycling Ltd had expected when it auctioned off the 19-year-old repossessed BMW?
Their clever media opportunity had been hijacked by the star of an online 'comedy mockumentary'.
Concy Ryan needs votes to remain in the running for RTE's Storyland competition.
"We're just glad that he's here because we didn't know who the mystery buyer was," said Connor Hand, National Recycling's spokesman amid the mountains of scrap metal at the company's premises in Clondalkin, west Dublin.
But Concy wasn't there for the same reason as everyone else. "I think that credit union (Anglo) just pure discriminated against everyone in Moyhill because we never got a loan for a horse," he told the Irish Independent.
Nothing about Concy Ryan could be believed, from his fictional Limerick neighbourhood of Moyhill to his claims to be the father of 10 children and the owner of 14 horses.
"Not many people know this, but I sold him (Mr FitzPatrick) that car about ten years ago and he never paid me for it," he claimed.
To the bemusement of onlookers, Concy climbed in to the cab of the 'crusher'. Then a mechanical arm picked up the BMW, swivelled it around for the photographers and dropped it in to the crusher.
Then with a horrible mechanical grating the crusher's jaws began to close.
Liquid dripped from the machine, the jaws moved in and out for a few minutes before a lump of metal about the size of a bed, with the BMW badge still visible at one end, was all that remained.
"Wa-hoo" yelled Concy as the rectangular block was lowered to the ground. "I know it's madness but you have to get some kind of satisfaction, this world is not sensible."