C: We're a double act now. Like Laurel and Hardy
G: ...or like Hardy and Laurel
C: Indeedy
G: So. Top Gear. Can you transcribe the main tune?
C: No. I'm tone deaf. Can you?
G: I think it is tarattaaaaatattarattatattarataaaaa, tararaaaarararaaraaraararaaaaaa!
C: It's a bit tiny anyroad. That's as in tin. NOT TINY. Although as intros goes, it's not the longest, is it? Brilliant. You've clearly missed your calling in life there.
C: Was that the one he wrote for the film? The one with the mahhooosive dog in it? You know?
G: Yes, I think he scored that tune. Wonder if he got any royalty for that.
C: We could of course talk dog and musical scores all night, however there's the tiny, sorry, small matter of dissecting TG. And of course, TG had a dog a couple of series' ago didn’t they?
G: What dog? In the Toyota iQ? The Skoda Yeti? Or the Lambo Gallardo? TG? Not TJ? The Hooker.
C: Don't start me on the whole hooker thing again. Next you'll be banging on about caravans or something equally inappropriate. No. TG. The Top Gear hound.
G: I can't remember that.
C: They took him on a caravan holiday if my memory serves me correct.
G: Wasn't it just Clarkson making a really sad face?
C: No, that was Hammond doing his best Pug impression. Surely you remember the Top Gear dog? And you call yourself a motoring buff?
G: I remember the caravan story, don't remember the dog, though.
G: Yes, named after not a fax machine but an actual F1 car.
C: There are of course less lenghthy place names in Wales. Even the Mitsubishi Lancer Evo FQ-GHTYE646460KHIHKDFKDKDD is shorter.
G: Ah yes. Llangkhafgkhakhrkhtrkhakkaaaadkfhkdah
C: Or edited, as you'd like it.
G: Why not just call it the "Killer"? Or something killer?
C: I guess the McLaren has a little more boot space to fit on all those letters and numbers though. Compared to the Mitsu.
G: Must have, there's one seat less in the car than the previous one.
C: Did you like it?
G: The name? If you're an F1 fan, you know what it means, for the rest of the people it's just a game of Scrabble.
C: No. The name. Of course the car. WE'RE A TOPICAL MOTORING THREAD/BLOG. It was a bit too orange for my tastes. It seems supercars only come in Lurid Orange or Pimps’ White these days.
G: Orange is the base color of McLaren, you anti-F1 fan.
C: I knew that. I chose to overlook it to appeal to our broader church. And did you see Clarkson attempting to disengage the traction control? More complicated than programming your average DVD recorder these days.
C: Don’t blaspheme in my company. Tiff and Jason. PRETENDERS TO THE THRONE IF EVER. I would like to land an axe in Needell's mouth. Just for a laugh and to kill that voice of his.
And Plato? Do me a favour? Anorak.
G: Tiff sounds like the Nintendo kid every time he gets near a car that was designed by 10-year olds.
C: Tiff. I mean who the hell is called Tiff? Apart from an Essex born tartlet. Or a pervy uncle trying to sound ‘down with the kids’. What's it short for? Apart from total tosspot?
G: If you keep repeating his name, it's like a steam train leaving the station.
C: So the McOrange went around Dunsfold in the second fastest time ever. YAWN. It isn't a pretty sight now is it?
G: ...and the team celebrated the time by a cake of digits. How original. Why not building a fort of oranges and then organise a battle-revival?
C: Don't get me wrong. I follow McLaren in terms of F1. Because our brave British boys drive for them. But their production cars just don't cut it for me.
G: The first one was awesome I think.
C: The McLaren F1? With the one seat in the middle?
G: The MP14HK34KJHEKFJHGK4KJH34KJ5H looks like a leftover design of it.
G: No way.
C: I didn't actually want to say the Panamera did I? The Porsche supercar. That Lewis Hamilton's dad aimed into a hedge. You know. The Porsche...
G: You wanted to say a 3-digit number.
C: Name, not a number. No one’s a prisoner here.
G: Might have been a Panamera.
C: No. Long german thing. Not Schumacher.....Carrera GT! That’s the kiddie!
G: Wasn't one owned by Jenson's dad that he forgot about? I wish I could forget about my Porsche one day.
C: I don't know. Cars aren’t my strong suite to be honest. Not sure what I'm doing here. Can we talk about women? Or music instead?
G: Yes, you're deaf. News!!
C: And most important of all... The Cholmondeley Pageant of Power. I went there once. And last year they held part of it along the docks in Liverpool.
C: That doesn’t surprise me.
G: Even I know what that is
C: Southerners sometimes find it difficult to breathe in and out and Google at the same time. HEAR THAT SOUND? THAT’S THE SOUND of us losing our Cockney followers. Nevermind eh. Cholmondley is in my neck of the woods. Great day out for all the family.
G: Smells like 'Escape to Isle of Man' to me.
C: I sound like an advert for the National Trust, don’t I?
G: No. You sound like our former prime minister.
C: Do I? Blair? HOW VERY DARE YOU?
G: No, the former Hungarian who almost caused a revolution.
C: I'd rather be mistaken for our current PM, Hugh Grant if I'm honest.
G: That prime minister I told you about did a remake of Hugh's dancing himself. He thought it was funny.
G: Yes, how can you live in an M5 and not follow #motorspurts?
C: I know what you're talking about. I'm just trying to keep it ABOUT THE CARS!!!! You know. "Brrrmmmm, brrrrm". Yup, over to you in the sound effects department.
G: I'm waiting for the next gen. of BMWs.
C: Are you? Which will look exactly the same as the current generation?
G: When they finally get completely rid off the last remains of Bangle-design.
C: You not a fan of Christopher then? Christophers are usually good people in my book. Creative too. AND VERY HANDSOME.
G: I could build a nicer back end of LEGO bricks.
C: Just an observation. I loved his original 5 Series design. Brave and bold. Proper departure from a car that had lost its way.
G: So you're saying, you did the BMW before. That's why you don't have a job I suspect...
C: Sssssh. I have meaningful vocation. What else would you call #motorspurts?
G: Dennis? George? Kendra?
C: I like the idea of Jeremy's bird poo challenge. Not scraping the barrel at all.
G: That's a sh*t challenge.
C: BLIMEY. That's a bit strong, isn’t it?
G: Did he say a metre of feces?
C: Don’t you ever reach for your tape measure and see just how long that streak is? I thought a terradactyl was the culprit if I’m honest. Do you know what I'd do if a bird shat on my car?
G: Measure it.
C: No. Dump her of course. Sorry. An old English joke. Never funny. That's why I do what I do and you do what you do. Only not as good.
G: Is ‘birdy’ a cute term for girlfriends in the UK?
C: No. That's golfing parlance. A 'bird' is a ‘fitty’. Or ‘hottie’. Or ‘strumpet’. Or ‘bint’.
C: If you must. Does it have any motoring relevance? DOES ANY OF THIS HAVE ANY MOTORING RELEVANCE I ASK MYSELF?
G: How does Bruce Lee cool down a hot engine? With WHATTAAAAA!!
C: I see what you've done there. You rejigged it. Clever. You have to make your own fun over in Hungary don't you? Has the Rubik’s Cube arrived yet?
G: We invented the H-bomb, and the computer, so sod off. Right... Evoque.
C: Don't start me on the Evoque. Interior by Posh Spice. Do me a favour.
G: Was that her? I know only salt and pepper.
C: Yes. The real Victoria Beckham. Just before giving birth to Harper 7. I know this is probably true.
G: I wonder if one of the kids will fall for Plastic Man
C: Death Valley is a suburb of Birmingham you know?
C: Yes. Don't mention Mexico. Although no one will be reading this.
G: Because they're all sleeping. NOOOOOOOOOOO.
C: They will be asleep. Technically. Because it is the middle of the night there. AWARD FOR MOST SURREAL TG MOMENT GOES TO J MAY. For singing along to Cher. ‘Cher’ Cher that is. Not Cher Lloyd. I don’t think he'd know who she was. Do you? Depends if you have any gypsy blood in you I guess?
G: And you, talking about Cher Lloyd. Is that any better?
C: She's cool. Unlike the 5-door Evoque. The 3-door is pretty sexy, mind. And what about the on-board cameras? Typical that a woman suggested that feature isn’t it? "Ohh, does my rear look big in this camera?"
G: She can't take a look though...
G: ...by the time she gets back to the seat she would notice that her big rear end has gone. David?
C: As in BECKHAM. One of my former work colleagues works on the lines at Halewood putting the Evoque together.
G: I'm putting LEGO together. They make more profit. See?
C: ALTHOUGH MY EX WORK COLLEAGUE WENT BY THE NAME OF DAVID TOO, STRANGELY. SUPERB CINEMATOGRAPHY ON TG AGAIN. In the desert. Euurgh. Gaudy Las Vegas though. I’d love to scud that place. Preferably whilst Tom Jones is performing.
G: Yes, and James May was posing like he was one of the members of 'Body Count'
C: What's ‘Body Count’? I fear you're veering off topic again.
G: A metal band Ice-T was leading.
C: THIS IS A CAR SHOW. REMEMBER OUR CONTRACTUAL OBLIGATIONS!!
G: Yes, sorry, back to Cher Lloyd.
C: Alluring. In a car crash type of way. She's definitely no stranger to caravan living or having a dog tied up outside said abode.
C: Must we?
G: YES. The German. Or just replace his name with Cher. So, Cher. She's a nice guy, I guess.
C: Talked a bit, laughed a bit, told us nothing, acted out some well scripted 'funny' lines, then drove the Liana relatively fast. 1.40 dead. Actually he's OK. For a German. End. Vettel done. Back to your window, son.
G: What about Schumacher?
C: German. Pass. Did you notice how everyone on Twitter during TG on Sunday were saying how pleasantly surprised with the way SeBASTARD came across?
G: What did they expect in the first place?
C: The very same people who hate him when he's up against OUR BRAVE BRITISH BOYS.
Double standards. With me, it's straight down the line. You know what to expect and exactly. And obviously a bit of xenophobia is thrown in for good measure.
G: Fear of Germany taking over BBC2?
C: I wanted Mark Webber to walk across the studio and past him. Just to get to the canteen before him.
G: They did that in a commercial with Alonso and Hamilton. And guess what: Hakkinen won the sauna round.
G: So how does moustache or eyebrows react with such humidity?
C: Humidity or humility?
G: Both.
C: Neither in Mansell's case. Ooops. I'm confusing him with Martin Brundle. Does that man bore for Britain or what?
G: So, whenever there's a high level of humidity or sh*tty driving on a track, Nigell doesn't react.
C: Did you see him on the F1 show? Jeez.
G: Oh, the alarm again, shut up!!
C: Where's this alarm? In your head?
G: No, down in the street.
C: Or is it the nurse coming through with your final tablets of the day? Lights off on the ward soon?
G: Shouldn't Hamilton get an alarm so everyone would be pretty sure he was coming?
C: You're not kidding. He should wear bells around his neck.
G: Sheesh. BMW and Merc.
G: When they realised they have run out of new cars, they turned to the mystic world of Autotrader
C: I have just applied to Autotrader for a job. Don't mention it on here though, or it'll narrow down my chances.
G: Yes, and why weren't you accepted?
C: Personally, I'd go for the Nissan Pixar any time. *Nissan Pixel *Nissan whatever
G: *Nissan Piss Off
C: I was amused by the 'Let’s pretend we're manly whilst sitting side by side in this convertible. And spit. Or talk football'. Cliché CITY. Mercedes CL500 WANKERY versus BMW 850. Go Beemer! Nice chat on mobile phones. With cords. Wires, not trousers from C & A. What looks better? 850 anyday...
G: They weren't afraid in the Stratos, although it involved man-touching.
C: Allowable in the Stratos. WHAT A MACHINE! Can you get one of those for the price of a Nissan Knob?
G: Personally, I prefer the Merc.
C: Really?
G: Not for the luxury stuff. But an E-class Merc can do it any time - with a V12.
C: Funny. Looking at your profile picture you strike me as under 30, too. I also wasn’t aware you played golf.
G: So you're in midlife crisis now, that 's why you fall for the fast-looking Beemer.
C: Always been a fan of the 850.
G: Me, the 750.
C: I particularly love it in the T5 form. With a capacious rear space.
C: What about the regurgitated grot test on cars. Bit passe. Excess body fluids and all that.
G: Can't remember a bird sh*tting on the cars.
C: All in all I don't think it held a candle to the previous week's TG. Which was one of the best for a long time as we concurred.
G: Yes. The Monaco bit, especially.
C: So to summarise...
G: Clarkson can measure feces.
C: May can hold a Cher tune.
G: Is that why TG magazine is looking for a Creative Leader?
C: Apparently so. Are you putting yourself forward for the gig?
G: Of course. Centerfold car with body panels off.
C: ...and Vettel isn’t quite the massive cock everyone thought he would be. Hammond went missing in action, mind. Did he phone in sick? Or did his mum write a letter saying he must be excused this week on grounds of his chesty cough.
G: Can't May or Hammond just lead the show from time to time?
C: NO!!! TG isn't TG without Clarkson. And that dog. TG. His name is synominous with Top Gear. And Piers Morgan-baiting.
G: Yes, but does he have to say HELLOOOOO, GOOD EVENING every time? And his face is a Morgan, too.
C: AND ON THAT BOMBSHELL... Some say this was not our finest #motorspurts hour, whilst some say we can get better. All we know is that that was #motorspurts TG for this week.
G: The Stig has to pop in eventually. Oh, those laughs we could have...
C: Are we building this up the a dramatic end? Should we wrap it up with a spot of controversy?
G: Yes.
C: ...let me see then... Is there anyone else left for me to offend? That Cher Lloyd. Bit of a gypsy, isn't she?
C: How very dare you. I'm Hugh Grant, remember? Blue blood.
G: Is that like reformed Coke?
C: Mentioning coke in this here piece, NOW THAT’S CONTROVERSY FOR YOU. You best hurry this up, I’m getting tired now. And when this happens I usually tell people that I love them.
G: Is 'Bye' a proper ending?
C: No. But ‘Good night’ is
G: Okay, GET LOST, EVERYONE!
C: That's good night from him, and good night from me until next time on #motorspurts, when we will be tackling the subject of the role cars play in prostitution.
G: No, not a BMW X6 again.
