AndrewR's Coupe vs The Oppressive Forces of Reality post


My first victim this morning was some tarted up Corsa, filled to the brim with teenagers, wearing their backwards baseball caps backwards so that the peaks were pointing forward. Glancing at my newly fitted Howhardaretheytryingometer I saw it had swung right up to 100%, or Noel Edmunds level of trying.

Naturally I dispensed with them in short order and with such ease that they'd been gone for more than 5 minutes before I noticed that I was still on my drive and hadn't even turn the ignition on.

Swinging on to the road, with the engine burbling nicely, I was immediately challenged by an oncoming furniture lorry, its horn beeping in a testosterone challenge to the superiority of my Italian supercar.

I have to admit it was tight until I realised that I was hitting the red-line because I was in neutral and not because I was really, really going for it. That also explained why the lorry was vanishing and why my dog was OK with it's front paws on my drivers window. Turns out it can't run at 150mph on its hind legs after all.

Upwards and onwards. My journey to work is around 25 miles and normally takes me around 8 minutes, but I am helped by having removed all surplace items from my interior, glove box and boot, using hydrogen to fill my tyres, always having a dump before I leave the house and leaving a suit at work so that I can drive there naked.

Thanks to these high performance measures I was able to leave a trail of Scooby-Doos, EVO IXs, Aston Martins and Saxos shuddering in my wake, many of them wearing expressions indicating that they obviously thought my car was a Ferrari of some kind, or maybe some sort of ultra-Lamborghini.

The only real challenge I faced was on a fast section of twisties where I suddenly realised that somebody was trying to overtake me. Glancing across I saw a one of them brand new Swedish supercars that holds the lap-record on Top Gear ... and it was being driven by Nigel Mansell ... and it had a big sign on the side reading, "Powered by NOx".

So it really gave me a hard time until I got up to third, at 150, and then I managed to pull 70 or 80 car lengths ahead, but using binoculars I could see that Nigel waw giving me the thumbs up. Nice bloke, shame he can't drive for toffee.

I was about to back off a bit, but then I realised that the light behind me was trying it on. Now I've no objection to people driving quickly, but this light was, literally, going as fast as it's physically possibly to go ... and in a 40 limit!

There's no way I could observe that sort of behaviour without showing the wave/particle radiation just what an idiot it was being, by driving even faster.

I'm happy to admit that it wasn't easy to lose it, especially when I had to write a 600-page physics article proving special relativity wrong and, thus, allowing me to accelerate beyond 186,000 miles per second, but thanks to the Coop's brilliant 4th gear I was able to manage it and that light looked pretty stupid.

At least it would have looked pretty stupid if I could have seen it. Which I couldn't. Because I was going faster, like.

When I finally got to work I was delighted to see they'd arranged a ticker-tape parade for me and the coop and journalists from all of the motoring magazines were writing articles explaining why the coop was the greatest car ever
in the entire history of cars and how there'd never be a car better, ever.

So, pretty good morning, really, but looking out of the window there are some tachyons in McDonald's car-park, over the road, acting pretty cocky.

Looks like I'll have to learn their theoretical asses a lesson.