The World According to Chop

March 6, 11:15 p.m.

It's overcast and chilly tonight at the Valley Auto Mall in Henderson, and the forecast calls for rain. Although Towbin Dodge has been officially closed for 15 minutes on this Monday night, at least two deals are still being finalized in the dealership's main area. Despite the ominous gathering clouds, a camera crew has already arrived and is setting up to shoot the latest edition of The Chopper Show, the long-running infomercial that has turned Towbin Dodge from just another dealership in the vast Auto Mall into a nationally recognized brand headed by one man: 30-year-old father of two Josh Towbin, better known as the Chopper or, more simply, as Chop.

Selling cars is in Chop's blood. His family owns five local dealerships, including two Towbin Infiniti locations, Towbin Hummer and Towbin Bentley. Chop's father, Daniel Towbin, put the young Chop to work at 14 washing cars, when the family moved to Las Vegas from New Jersey. Much like Superman, who started out as Superboy, Chop manifested his car-selling powers early in life. "Back then I used to buy and sell cars and scooters," he explains. "I used to have a little ad in the paper where I'd say, ‘Cash paid for mopeds.'" Still too young to drive, Chop would catch rides from friends or from his dad to pick up the scooters he bought, then resell them. "That's kind of even how I got my name, because like if somebody was asking $400, I'd offer them $200," he says. "So my dad would say, ‘You're chopping, you're the Chopper.' That's how the Chopper name came out. And then, when we came up with the TV thing years later, it was natural that that would be the name."

Chop moved up from washing cars to become the assistant used-car manager at Towbin Infiniti, and one day almost 10 years ago destiny called, although he didn't know it at the time. "We had this regular commercial," he says. "Sort of a boring deal. Then the guy wasn't there to do it or something, and they said, ‘Well, we want you to do it.' I'm like, this is really goofy, my friends are going to make fun of me. I'm not going to look like a geek on TV. This is going to be embarrassing."

He agreed to do the commercial as long as he could play around with it, and thus was born what would eventually become The Chopper Show. Chop started off by throwing in a joke here and there, but over time he developed the zany cast of characters that is so familiar to the viewers of the show, which airs on various local stations in various late-night slots: the Blue Genie, Emperor Two-Step, Big Sally from Green Valley. When Towbin Dodge opened in 1998 with Chop as owner, the show moved there. The risks that Chop took paid off: "What we learned through the years was the crazier we act, the more cars we sell, the more attention we get."

Although deals are still being hammered out, the staff is beginning to gather in the sales tower (which isn't really a tower, just a command center for the tracking and approving of sales) to prepare for the show. Bobby Hood, who plays the character of the Auto Marshall, is already decked out in his boots, spurs, hat and six-guns and is perusing a magazine. Hood showed up for his job interview dressed as the Marshall, a character he had invented himself. This is how pervasive the show's reputation has become. Chop enters, impeccably dressed as always in a crisp suit and adorned with modest bling, and beckons the staff into the tower over the P.A. system. It's time to come up with the characters that will fill tonight's installment.

Although some of the salesmen play regular characters, most of the show is "written" on the fly right before shooting begins. "This is our whole creative process right here, where it takes like three minutes," Chop says as he repeatedly asks the assembled group of 20 or so salesmen, "Who doesn't have a name?" Some look anywhere but at Chop, perhaps hoping they won't suffer the fate of Golden Spaghetti or the Spam Inspector, both minor characters compared to the wildly popular Blue Genie, but regulars who are already present with their minimal costumes at the ready.

Everyone is drinking Red Bull to get ready for the show, and there is a big pile of ridiculous outfits in the center of the room. It's like a cross between a frat party and a summer camp talent show. Chop rounds up a couple of reluctant staffers who don't yet have characters for the night and starts improvising ideas. He tells one that his name will be "Mush" and that he is to speak in a high-pitched voice and end every sentence with "baby boy." Chop grabs a marker and starts writing down lines for Mush to practice. When Mush misses saying "baby boy" at the end of one of his lines, Chop admonishes, "Gotta stay in character." You get the impression that Chop is never out of character.

To name the other staffer, Chop seizes on an idea, asking the room if anyone knows what the skin on your elbow is called. "Anybody have any medical background?" No one does, but a quick Googling confirms Chop's suspicions: The skin on your elbow is called the wenis (at least according to the Urban Dictionary, which is good enough for Chop), and it must be incorporated into a character on tonight's show. Mush looks like he got off easy when another nameless salesman is told that he will be immortalized as Mr. Wenis, or perhaps the Wenis Inspector.

There is much debate about whether the character should be Mr. Wenis or Dr. Wenis, and eventually he becomes Dr. Enis, who specializes in the wenis. The very reluctant original Mr. Wenis is given a reprieve, and the job of delivering Chop's favorite joke of the evening goes to another employee who's already played 18 characters on the show. "As long as you keep saying the word wenis," Chop tells him, "it's a guaranteed hit."

Given the way his show's popularity has snowballed in the decade since it started (Chop now estimates that up to 80 percent of Towbin Dodge's business comes from viewers of The Chopper Show), it's perhaps inevitable that Chop has begun to have ambitions beyond late-night infomercials. In 2003, Chop and Towbin Dodge were featured in an episode of the A&E show Take This Job, which documented colorful personalities in various jobs across America. The episode was one of the highest-rated in the show's run, and production company Hybrid Films started negotiating with Chop for a reality show of his own. The result, King of Cars, finally premieres on A&E at 10 p.m. April 4. It comes hot on the heels of another Hybrid show, Dog the Bounty Hunter, which has become A&E's highest-rated program.

"I think he is every bit as charismatic [as Dog]," says King of Cars executive producer Daniel Elias about Chop. "I think he is an incredible motivator, and I think you see that in the way that he motivates his sales staff. I think you see that in the way he is inspiring on-camera as well." Elias has high hopes for King of Cars, both in the ratings and in overall quality. "We're doing some of our best work that we've ever done on that show," he says.

Chop is more guarded, but it's clear he's excited about the doors that King of Cars could open for him. "If we do really good, that's good," he says, "but if the show doesn't do as well, it doesn't really matter to me. Because our local show is always going to do good." He's confident in the people at A&E, who have been promoting the show with extensive advertising and are premiering it in a prime-time slot—right after a new episode of Dog the Bounty Hunter. "A&E, to me, is the best network I could have signed with. They just back us up. Ninety-five percent of TV shows fail. They go out and they just hope people watch. A&E's not like that."

Chop isn't leaving his fate in the hands of fickle TV viewers, though. Any time he doesn't spend overseeing things at Towbin Dodge is spent on his many other endeavors, including a burgeoning rap career for himself (he performs the theme song to King of Cars), a record label (Tru Cents Entertainment), a clothing line and a partnership with Dub Wheels that may lead to a Chopper brand of custom wheels. Chop sees himself as a car mogul first and foremost, but he is deadly serious about his music career and other enterprises. He's able to step back from the day-to-day operations at the dealership and make some of his other dreams come true. "It was like a waste before," he says, "because we had all this great stuff, and we had these fans and everything, but all we were doing was just selling cars."

Not that selling cars isn't going well for Chop. Towbin Dodge is the No. 1 single-point used-car dealership in the nation, and the No. 2 single-point Dodge dealership. (A single-point dealership sells only one make of vehicle.) But it can't quite compare to appearing on The Tonight Show (which he'll do on March 31) or even Jimmy Kimmel Live (which he'll do on April 3). At heart, Chop just wants to entertain. "When I have my meetings and when I speak, it makes me feel good. I like to get a reaction. If I can get a room of people to laugh, it really makes me feel good."

The show is finally about to start. Cars are lined up to be driven in front of the camera, where Chop will give a rundown of salient features (written on the windshield so he doesn't mix up years or upgrades on each vehicle) and chat with whatever character is in the driver's seat. Mush is busy practicing his lines, as is another reluctant character, designated Tiger Wu (like Tiger Woods crossed with the Wu-Tang Clan, or so goes the thinking). I'm standing in a pack with all the noncharacter staffers, and at least two of them remind me that I've got to yell the show's catchphrase—"Chop it!"—when Chop points his microphone at the group.

There's excitement in the air, but it's mixed with restlessness. Prem Singh, who plays the Blue Genie, is pacing and smoking. "Don't tell," he says to me when he sees I've noticed him lighting up. He is, after all, a public figure. ("He really thinks that he's some kind of major celebrity," Chop has told me.) Chop gathers the faithful for a pep talk. He reminds everyone to applaud, yell "Chop it!" at the appropriate time and not engage in any side conversations, because the boom mic will pick them up. "Listen to what the character is saying," he says, and ask everyone to show their "focus faces" to indicate readiness before walking back in front of the camera. Everyone is pumped.

Well, almost everyone: "Let's get this shit over with," someone says. The camera starts to roll. Singh and Joe Kang, who plays Emperor Two-Step, sit in places of honor behind the camera while everyone else stands. Chop turns on his famous manic charm, and starts hyping the deals he'll showcase tonight.

He flubs his first line, and we start over, but for the rest of the show there are no second takes.

The walls of Chop's office are covered with pictures of celebrities, some autographed, some featuring Chop himself grinning right alongside. "We have a lot of celebrity clientele," Chop says. "And it's funny because it's a Dodge dealership. We kind of take what we have and we just work with it." In other words, Dodges aren't exactly the vehicles of choice for the glitterati, but Chop's charisma and salesmanship make things happen nonetheless. He's got quite the following among local celebrities, including Gladys Knight, David Brenner and George Wallace, who says that Chop is "the funniest comedian in town," and loves to watch The Chopper Show with his buddy Jerry Seinfeld. "Every time we come to town that's the first thing we turn on," Wallace says.

Even Chop's competitors look up to him. "I respect anybody that will go across the line in the pursuit of success and sales," says Findlay Toyota's John Barr, probably the second most recognizable car salesman in town, thanks to his own series of wacky commercials in which he vows to "do anything to sell you a car." "What I like about him is he's made the attempt to be recognizable, and if you love him or you hate him, you know who he is," Barr says, and this comes from someone who has certainly engendered a love-hate relationship with the citizens of Las Vegas.

Las Vegas has embraced Chop, though, even if not everyone would consider buying a car from him. "Ninety-nine point nine percent of the people that come up to me are very positive," he says. The one-tenth of one percent who don't like Chop or what he does are out there, though, some posting on the website www.choppercarsfraud.com. The site's message board features many of the standard car-dealership rip-off complaints, although some are rebutted by other posters, and a majority of the posts are just automated spam ads. Almost all of Chop's customers love him, and he loves them right back. "If I'm in a bad mood and I talk to one of my customers," he says, "90 percent of the time I'm in a better mood."

Chop's methods are so successful that they have inspired a rash of imitators, car salesmen in other states with their own infomercials, their own crazy casts of characters. There are green genies and little people painted blue and Chop's own jokes repeated. He tells the story of a car dealer from New Jersey who came into Towbin Dodge as a friend, learned the secrets of The Chopper Show and used to create his own persona, the Slasher. Yet Chop doesn't get mad or think about lawsuits. "He has to live with himself," Chop says about the Slasher. "He's going to have to watch this national show now, and everybody's going to know I've been doing this for many years before he was doing it."

It's time for the third and final segment of The Chopper Show. Things tonight have gone relatively smoothly: Despite the clouds, the rain has failed to appear, and after Chop's early goof, the performances have proceeded without a hitch. Local street performer Mr. Happiness, the only non-Towbin Dodge employee on the show, dances in the background, the goat relieves itself on the pavement and the anticipation builds for the much-talked-about wenis segment. Chop calls another huddle to get everyone ready for the part of the show that brings it all home.

We all yell "Chop it!" with gusto, but midway through the segment the camera crew hits a snag and everything stops. There's a deflation of energy, but luckily it doesn't last, and there's still no need for second takes. The crowd gets a moment in the spotlight, appearing in a cutaway that can be spliced in later to cover for the technical gaffe. Dr. Enis, a specialist in wenology, is a huge hit, and chances are he'll be back for another appearance. At 1:14, the show wraps, much earlier than on other nights. Chop gathers a sort of all-star cast—the Blue Genie, Mr. Happiness, Emperor Two-Step, the goat—to shoot a quick 30-second spot separate from the show. This time, with Chop talking at a lightning-fast pace and cars moving rapidly in and out of frame, a second take is required. The cars back up and get in line to shoot the ad again, since Chop has accidentally said, "Nobody's cheaper." The problem? That's another dealership's tag line.

Even as Chop goes over the footage to make sure everything looks good, the place has descended back into frat-boy chaos (there are no women on The Chopper Show). Someone is running around terrorizing people with a wooden snake toy that was used in one of tonight's segments. People keep calling the Auto Marshall "Brokeback," on account of his cowboy boots and hat. He does not appear to appreciate it.

Off to the side is Mush, looking like he's trying hard to blend into the crowd. Another salesman notes that he never made it onto the show tonight, and Mush sheepishly says that all the cars were full by the time he tried to find one. It looks like he's dodged a bullet, but Chop misses nothing. He walks over and assures Mush that next week, he'll be first in line.