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Arthur wasn't a man of leisure; he was a man of the bottom line. So, when a glossy flyer promised a "Luxury Coastal Retreat for the price of a dinner at Sizzler," he didn't see a red flag—he saw a loophole.

The triumph lasted exactly six months, until the first "Maintenance Assessment" arrived in the mail. It was $1,200. cheap timeshare

Arthur, blinded by the prospect of a $99-a-year getaway, signed the stack of papers. He left with a plastic keychain and a sense of triumph. Arthur wasn't a man of leisure; he was

Arthur tried to go back to the Golden Palms that summer. He found his "Luxury Suite" was actually a studio overlooking a dumpster, and the "private beach" was a narrow strip of sand behind a highway. Arthur wasn't a man of leisure