Being built now for a custom fabrication shop in Southern Utah — turnkey vehicles at $200K and up.
A custom shop loses money in two places. The invoice — parts and hours nobody wrote down. And the shelf, running out of what it uses most.
Same cause both times. The person who knows what got used is holding a part, not a keyboard.
Capture happens at the rack
A fabricator walks up to the parts rack. Opens the app. Picks the project — the rock buggy in bay two. Scans a SKU for the four 1” heim joints in his hand, enters the quantity. Grabs something else, scans, enters. Moves on.
When he switches tasks he logs his hours on that rig. That’s the whole thing.
It takes seconds. And it happens while he still knows the answer.
By the time the build is done, so is the invoice
Every part and every hour has been stacking up against that buggy the whole time. The owner opens it, checks it, clicks invoice. It goes out with a payment link on it.
No rebuilding six months from memory and a shoebox of receipts. No eating the parts nobody wrote down.
The shelf looks after itself
Every part has a minimum. Cross it and the part puts itself on a need-to-order list. Drop further and the notifications get louder.
“We should order those” and “the build has stopped” are about four days apart.
The storefront stops competing with the workshop
A lot of that stock also gets sold to the public, so the website runs on the same data.
With one rule. The shop sets a reserve. Real stock hits that number and the website shows zero — while the parts sit on the shelf, waiting for the build they were bought for.
The store can’t sell the buggy’s axles out from under the guy building it.
What it replaces
QuickBooks comes out. Billing moves inside the platform.
One system that knows what the shop knows — stock, jobs, hours, invoices, the storefront. Instead of five that each know a quarter of it and disagree.