The bare carbon-fiber monocoque from a wrecked McLaren GT is sitting on eBay right now with a buy-it-now price of $2,624.99. That’s roughly 1.25 percent of what the car cost new.

The seller, 417 Motoring out of Missouri, originally listed the Monocell chassis at $3,499.99 before slashing the price. Shipping runs a flat $1,200 on top. For under four grand delivered, you get the structural core of a car that stickered around $210,000 when it debuted for the 2020 model year.

There’s damage. The rear corner section is compromised, and the front left side of the tub took a hit. Windshield and roof glass come with it, but both are cracked. Whether any of this is repairable or terminal isn’t clear from the listing.

McLaren builds every road car around a carbon-fiber monocoque, the same philosophy that underpins its Formula 1 operation. These tubs are engineered to survive violent impacts while keeping occupants intact. That’s exactly why wrecked limited-edition McLarens — Sennas, Elvas — still command six and seven figures even wearing salvage titles.

But this isn’t a Senna. The GT was always the odd duck in McLaren’s lineup, a grand tourer grafted onto 720S architecture with softer suspension tuning, gentler bodywork, and a luggage compartment carved out beneath the rear engine cover in homage to the Maserati Bora. Noble intentions, but a mid-engine two-seater with a small trunk doesn’t suddenly become a continent crosser. McLaren quietly replaced it with the sharper GTS for 2024, which tells you everything about where the GT sat in the hierarchy.

That positioning problem makes a full rebuild hard to justify financially. Sourcing a replacement engine, transmission, suspension, wiring harness, body panels, and interior from McLaren’s parts catalog would likely exceed the cost of buying a clean, used GT outright. The economics only work if you have access to donor parts from another wreck, and even then the labor hours would be brutal.

So what do you actually do with a bare carbon-fiber supercar tub? The internet has suggestions. A race car bed for a kid who’ll outgrow it in two years. A sim racing cockpit with genuine supercar ergonomics. A porch swing, if you have the structural engineering chops and a porch that can handle it.

Someone even floated the idea of a toboggan, which, given that the thing has already survived one crash, isn’t the worst pitch. The real audience here is probably an artist, a furniture builder, or a shop owner who wants the ultimate conversation piece bolted to the wall.

Carbon fiber this pretty doesn’t come cheap in any other context. McLaren charges tens of thousands for replacement tubs. Getting one for the price of a decent mountain bike is an anomaly born entirely from destruction.

It’s also a quiet reminder of how McLaren’s engineering hierarchy works. The company pours its best thinking into the structure, then dresses it differently depending on the model. Strip away the bodywork, the powertrain, and the badge, and a GT and a 720S share more DNA than McLaren’s marketing department would prefer you to notice.

At $2,625, someone will bite. The question isn’t whether it sells. It’s what bizarre second life this thing ends up living.