A year or so ago I was in some little town somewhere after a long, lonely drive and I wandered into an antique shop to kill some time. Draped over the neck of a dusty, cracked mannequin was a sparkling necklace, held together with a rusty copper hook.
The handwritten tag said, "As-is, c.1950's necklace." I bought it on the spot, put down my bags and wrapped the necklace around my neck. Almost instantly, it fell apart and beads rolled everywhere. The cashier said, "As-is."
