Built In The 404.
I grew up around cars in Atlanta — flipping trade-ins, helping friends pull engines, watching people get ripped off by dealers and scrap brokers. The "we buy junk cars" world is full of people who don't know what they're doing or don't care, and the seller pays for it twice.
404 Junk Cars is the company I wished existed when I sold my first beater fifteen years ago. I quote based on actual scrap weight, parts demand, and what's moving at the metal yards this week — not whatever lowball number a script tells me to throw out. If I quote you $1,800, that's $1,800 in your hand, no clipboard surprises when the truck pulls up.
I work the phones, I drive the truck most days, and I stack the cash in front of you before we hook up the tow. It's how I'd want to be treated if it were my driveway. Hapeville is home, but I run trucks across the entire metro every day — Atlanta proper, East Point, Decatur, Marietta, Smyrna, Forest Park, all of it.
Got a car taking up space? Pick up the phone. We'll have it gone today.
