Richard: When we left the action, Jeremy was in the lead just approaching Doncaster, I was in second place and, as you would expect, Captain Slow was bringing up the rear...
Richard: ...Hoping to take me from behind.
James: Yeah alright.
Richard: And then press home his advantage and take Jeremy in the tunnel...
James: Stop saying things like that!
[on the Black Shadow, in last place due to not being able to start it and then later accidentally stalling it]
Richard: OK. A few things to get used to. The gear lever is on the other side of the bike. So at the moment, every time I want to brake, I'm changing gear instead and if I want to change gear, I'm braking. It's not ideal. Brakes are the originals, and surprisingly good. The only trouble is, they're full of asbestos.
[riding the Black Shadow]
Richard: I am now straddling my boyhood hero! No, no, wait. That's not right, no. Between my legs... No.
[Jeremy, covered in soot, has just walked into the bar and collapsed after running there from the steam engine]
James: [holding a glass of beer up to Jeremy's mouth] Jeremy! Speak to me!
[after James overtakes Richard in the 1949 race, Richard calls Jeremy, who is several miles ahead]
Jeremy: Hammond, where are you?
Richard: Um, I'm about thirty miles south of Doncaster.
Jeremy: Oh, dear! We're in York.
Jeremy: Where's James?
Richard: He's just overtaken me, but his Jag is drinking fuel, so with a bit of luck, he'll stop for fuel before I do, and I can overtake him again.
Jeremy: Or he'll catch fire?
[Richard hears a tannoy announcement telling him to turn his mobile phone off]
Jeremy: What's that noise?
Richard: It's me being told off not to use a mobile phone by the man.
Jeremy: Go and tell him it's 1949.
Richard: Yes, so we can't have mobile phones.
[as the train starts to pull out of the station, it does a wheelspin]
Jeremy: Yes! That was wheelspin! On a 96-tonne train!
Richard: You're-- That is a steam train, isn't it? It's not got some nuclear device on board as well?
[the train is now on the move again]
Jeremy: [voiceover] No. What it had on board was a fresh crew. And that meant a fresh set of muscles.
[Jeremy has just left Berwick aboard Tornado, but has found out that James is in the lead.]
Jeremy: How far north of Berwick are you?
James: Less than ten miles.
Jeremy: How far?
James: Less than ten miles.
James: No, less than ten!
James: [losing patience] LESS THAN TEN! [laughs] What a cock-end! Honestly!
[Jeremy, Richard and James are beginning on the news.]
Jeremy: Now as we know, to try and shore up the car industry, the Government recently announced that if you scrap your old Singer Gazelle, you get £2000 off the price of a new car.
James: But why is it just cars?
Jeremy: What are you suggesting; "Dear The Government, I've just found some rancid bacon in the back of my fridge; can I have a big pile of money to buy a shiny new lobster?"
[During the news, discussing the Skoda Fabia Scout]
Richard: ...so presuming that it comes with a 10p piece, bit of string in the glove box, and it pitches up on your doorstep every year to ask for a pound to clean itself.
James: So I supposed that every summer it goes off and sort of stays in the countryside somewhere, and is... touched inappropriately.
Jeremy: No, no James. [crowd continues laughing] No, no James. That's the Skoda Catholic Church.
[Jeremy is about to discuss a car smaller than the Peel P50.]
Jeremy: Now, we have some bad news.
James: [dryly] Dacia Sandero.
Jeremy: [firmly] No, not the Dacia Sandero.
Jeremy: Get off topic, just for a moment; you see, I was driving down here this morning and I couldn't help noticing that my Mercedes just said on the dashboard [puts on bad German accent] "your service is due in tventy-six days". [resumes normal voice] I just thought "How Germanic and boring is that?"
Richard: [whispering] ...and precise.
Jeremy: And then I was thinking "What's going to happen on the twenty-seventh day when inevitably I still haven't had it serviced?"
James: [in bad German accent] Cooler, sree veeks... Mezzr. Clarkson...
[Michael Schumacher as the Stig is driving the Reasonably Priced Car very badly]
Jeremy: Here he is, final corner... [the car doesn't turn up] ...Michael Schumacher is lost, everybody!!!
Jeremy: But that's 15 times the price of the car! What you're saying is, I'm going to completely write-off the car 15 times a year.
Jeremy: Well there's a Top Gear top tip right there. If you're a 17 year old boy and need car insurance, slice your penis off.
Richard: I would've done.
James: I did. [Richard and Jeremy laugh out loudly]
James: Yup. I nearly did.
[After Richard and James arrive at the school with their used cars]
Richard: [Narrating] And then, a geography teacher arrived.
[The "geography teacher" is, in fact, Jeremy, who is driving a beige Volvo 940 estate]
James: God above, I thought that was one of the teachers!
Richard: [Laughing as Jeremy gets out of his car] I'm sorry, I'm 17, "Happy birthday, son!" [Richard fakes crying for a moment]
Jeremy: [Completely serious] Perfect car for any 17-year-old.
Jeremy: My turbo!
Richard: It is a low-pressure turbo.
Jeremy: [To James] What have you got?
James: I've got a Golf.
Jeremy: Has it got a turbo?
Richard: [Talking about his own car] They did do a turbo--
Jeremy: What is that?
Richard: That's a Hyundai S-coupé, and they did do a turbo.
James: Not on this one.
Richard: No, not on this particular one.
Jeremy: So you turn up, at the school, here's my turbo. There's another very important issue that we must address: The most precious thing in your life, your child, speaking as a parent, is sitting in that seat, yes?
Jeremy: [Indicating the hood] Look at the amount of metal between him and the tree he will inevitably hit!
James: [Reading from the first challenge card] You must now imagine that you are 17...
James: ...and modify your cars accordingly, in order to do what any 17-year-old boy wants to do: attract girls!
Richard: [Laughing at Jeremy] You've had it! Well look at your beige Volvo!
Jeremy: Just--get on...
James: [Continuing] Your budget is whatever you have left from your original £2,500.
Jeremy: [To James] So how much have you got?
James: 300 quid.
Jeremy: [To Richard] You?
Richard: 500 quid! You?
Jeremy: Guys! Problem!
Jeremy: I've shoved my anarchy flag through my water lilo!
Richard: Nobody's ever said that before.
[Jeremy is slipping badly on the slope while trying to escape the clutches of the Glastonbury car park.]
Jeremy: [as if in a crisis] OH, P-L-E-A-S-E!! PLEASE DON'T DO THIS TO ME!!!
[During the news, about the car insurance]
Richard: Can I just point out before we do move on, if you do decide to put yourself on your parents' insurance, and you have a crash, and the insurance company find out that it was really your car...
James: Which they will if it's got a body kit on it.
Jeremy: Or even half a body kit. [part of Hammond's body kit had fallen off in an earlier challenge]
Richard: Alright, whatever. The point is, if the insurance company find out that it really was your car after all, they won't pay out. And then they can prosecute you, and then you might have to go to jail. And then one day you'll be in the showers and a big, strange man will come and-
Jeremy: [interrupting] Oookayy! Okay...
[During the news, while commenting on the cheap car challenge]
James: I thought the best noise that ever came out of a car was the one coming out of the stereo of my seventeen-year-old Golf until you two touched it inappropriately.
James: Why would the South Koreans nuke Hammersmith?
Jeremy: They used American guidance systems?
[Jeremy has just remembered about the Ferrari FXX lap, and has bad news.]
Jeremy: Last week, a man came here, claiming to be the Stig. Maybe he is, we don't know. Okay? Maybe he is, but what we do know is he set a time of one minute, ten seconds in a Ferrari FXX round our track, top of our leaderboard. We subsequently discovered he was doing that on slick tyres. Now we have rules on this powerboard here, okay—you can't use slicks, so this time is coming off.
[Crowd boos as the time comes off.]
Jeremy: [indignantly] Oh, boo?!! [Crowd laughs] This is a dictatorship! You want to live in a democracy, go to Iran!
Richard: I have to work with that. Week in, week out.
[Richard has parked his car noiselessly and safely, and now it is Jeremy's turn. All is rather quiet until...]
Jeremy: [in a frustrated yell] OH, FOR GOD'S SAKE!!!
James: [Clarkson turned on his stereo while he was trying to quietly park] God's sake. No! [Lights turn on as Clarkson and Hammond laugh] You're so unfunny.
[James has sent the supermarket trolleys flying with his handbrake turn, but the teenage girls are paying no attention.]
Richard: They're hot for James May right now!
[Jeremy laughs loudly.]
James: I might as well have cut my penis off for all the good that did.
[Richard has crashed his car. Jeremy runs over to it and opens the door.]
Jeremy: You alright?
[After hearing no answer from Richard, he closes the door again.]
Jeremy: [mournfully] Dead.
Jeremy: Yeah... [sniffs] Yeah. Anyway, er...
James: Back to the studio.
Jeremy: [indignantly] That's my line!
[Later, in the studio...]
Richard: [gently] Luckily, children, I got better; you may not be so lucky.
James: [also gently] Yes, it's like my penis: that grew back. Yours might not.
[An irate Jeremy is trying to stop the windscreen wiper while in the studio.]
Richard: This is consumer advice as well, so...
Jeremy: [frustrated] SHUT UUUUUP!
Jeremy: Well of course, what we have proved there is that the Bugatti Veyron, which we know to be the fastest car in the world, is faster than another kind of car.
Jeremy: Tonight. We shout at the government. A man drives a Subaru through a building. And a dog goes in a car.
Richard: And now we must do the news, and starting off with Citroën, they've made a new C3, here it is, and... well, it's a Citroën, it looks like that, but the most important thing about it is, for this car, they've invented a new word.
Richard: They've actually, they've put it in their publicity material for it, and it's, it's "visiodrive". They confess they've made that up, it's a whole... new word! Visio... drive.
Jeremy: I'm sort of sympathetic.
Jeremy: Because none of the words you would normally use to describe a Citroën would work very well in their own publicity blurb, would they? Like... "flimsy".
[during the news]
Jeremy: As men, we all know that you should never, ever buy a woman something with a plug on it. Yeah? We know that.
James: I did.
James: I did.
Jeremy: You bought your girlfriend an electrical appliance.
James: Yeah, I got her a power drill.
Richard: James! James, she's a ballet correspondent.
James: Well, that's what she wanted! She said "I want that power drill," so I got it for her!
Jeremy: No, she said that, James, but - do you know nothing? Women say they want a power drill, but they don't, they want soap. Women always - they do!
James: Yeah, but it's impossible to buy soap for a woman.
Richard: Eh? No, hang on, soap's soap. You can't -
Jeremy: Whoa ho! Did you hear that, girls? "Soap is soap."
Richard: Well, that's great! That's an effective cleaning agent! She'd be chuffed, I'm sure!
Jeremy: However. The worst thing you would ever have to buy, ever have to buy a girl is a handbag.
Richard: That's pretty bad.
Jeremy: Because, even if by some miracle you got the right colour, it would be the wrong shape, it wouldn't have the right number of pockets, it would be last season's handbag-
James: Is there a season for handbags?
Jeremy: Did you hear? Is...oh yes!
James: What, there's certain times of the year I can shoot handbags and it's okay?
Jeremy: No, the fact is, okay, my wife has a handbag; I kid you not, it is this big. [holds up paper cup] And in it, she'll go, "I've lost my mobile phone! Ring it! Ring it, ring it! And you'll say, "If it's in there, you must be able to see it-", "I can't see it!"
[During the car sauna clip]
Richard: Given that we are made of ... what percentage of us is water?
James: Or less.
Richard: Water that evaporates. So what we are breathing is each other...
[Jeremy looks horrified and James looked disgusted]
Jeremy: [While Richard is pretending to retch] You're breathing my chest.
[After showing the car sauna clip]
Jeremy: Gordon, if you're watching, and you're probably not, if you go to set these ridiculous, er, heatwave level alerts...what was it we got up to?
Jeremy: [continuing his speech] ...Sixty-two degrees is your bottom.
Richard: Yeah, it gets a bit toasty...
Jeremy: A bit uncomfortable.
Richard: How about that?
James: Actually, Gordon, there's something else I've discovered in that test, if you're watching. And that is... I know when I'm too hot.
Jeremy: I don't need the Government to tell me to have a drink of water and put suncream on. Leave - us - alone!
[During Star In A Reasonably Priced Car]
Michael McIntyre: The only way you could feel better about having such a terrible car is you would occasionally try and overtake nicer cars on the motorway. It's quite a manly moment. You're sitting there, chugging along at 60; you're quite comfortable. You'll see a Porsche in the middle lane, I'd say to my wife, "You see that Porsche?" She'd say, "Yes, what of it?" "I'm having it." She's like, "The Princess couldn't overtake that Porsche, it's a 1.0!" "I can do this!" You pull into the middle lane, you start to get excited, then you get into the fast lane. When you're in the fast lane in a terrible car, you immediately know you don't belong. Big Range Rovers right up behind you flashing, "Retreat to the loser lane, where you belong!" There are horses in the slow lane going, "I've gotta see this. What's going on?" I think the top speed was about 76. You put your foot down and the whole car would shake uncontrollably. It takes somewhere between 40 to 45 minutes to pull alongside the Porsche. My wife's going, [While shaking his head] "I told you!" And you always have to look over, when you're overtaking, to see your victim. [While shaking his head] "Who are you Porsche driver?"
[After James has done a lap with a St Bernard dog in the car]
Jeremy: Oh, that is a miserable-looking dog.
Richard: Aww! It's making me sad just looking at him!
James: [indignantly] That's his normal face!
[After James hears his lap time]
Jeremy: That's the saddest-looking spectacle I've ever seen--
Jeremy: ...and it's your fault. If you're from the RSPCA, write to us at 'James May is a #######, Top Gear, London'.
[the presenters, in their small cars, are driving through Parliament Square protesting through loudspeakers]
[On the powerful, front wheel drive, Ford Focus RS]
Jeremy: Asking the front wheels of a car to do their normal job of steering while handling, let's say, more than 170 brake horsepower is like asking a man to wire a plug while juggling. Penguins. While making love. To a beautiful woman, while on fire, on stage, in front of the Queen. It's all going to go wrong.
Jeremy: Eventually, you will slide wide. But only after your face has come off.
[On The Stig]
Jeremy: Some say that he is absolutely baffled by urinals. And that on reflection this was a bad week to launch his debut single. It's a tribute, to Farah Fawcett. All we know is he's called The Stig.
James: And now, the news! And we begin the news with the new Lamborghini — here it is — and that has been named after their recently retired chief test driver, Valentino Balboni.
Richard: Bet they wouldn't have called it after him if he'd been named Ken Shufflebottom.
James: Actually, their new chief test driver is called Max Venturi.
Richard: No, he's not, obviously.
James: No, he is!
Jeremy: He is, he really is! That's his real name!
Richard: No, he's not really called Max Ven...
Jeremy: He is...
Richard: Nobody outside of a comic strip is called "Max Venturi, Lamborghini Tester"!
Jeremy: You don't need a driving license to be a Lamborghini test driver. You just turn up for the interview, go, "I'm sorry, I'm drunk and mad but I'm called Velociraptor Clint Thrust." "Right, you start on Monday."
[Jeremy, James and Richard are talking about the new Lamborghini Gallardo Balboni]
James: I like that stripe so much I'd be prepared to buy the whole car just to get it.
Jeremy: Just for the stripe. Can I just offer one word of warning to anyone who's thinking of buying a Gallardo? James, for you, okay? Have you seen this?
[A picture of a Gallardo on fire appears on the screen]
Richard: That's...that's a burning Gallardo.
Jeremy: Yeah; have you seen this?
[Another picture of a Gallardo on fire appears...]
Richard: That's a burning Gallardo.
Jeremy: Yeah, I know; have you seen this?
Richard: That's a burning Gallardo.
Jeremy: I know, but have you seen this?
Richard: That's a burning Gallardo.
Jeremy: What about this?
Richard: Er, burning Gallardo.
Jeremy: What about this?
[...and one of a Gallardo that's almost totally destroyed by the fire]
Richard: [laughing] That'd be a burning Gallardo! That's ridiculous!
James: So I go into the dealer and I say "I'd like a Lamborghini, can I have one that's not on fire?"
Jeremy: Thing is, though, I have to say, this is what makes driving a Lamborghini so exciting; you drive in a normal car, and it's not on fire.
James: You get the moving map in the dial. [Enthusiastically] Oh, oh!
Richard: You're not going to crash the car doing this?
James: Yes, I am!
[Jeremy comments on Usain Bolt's 2008 Olympic 100m dash]
Jeremy: You set a world record with your shoelace undone.
[Jeremy reads out Usain Bolt's quote on the day of the 2008 Olympic 100m dash]
Jeremy: It said, "I didn't have breakfast, woke up at 11:00, sat around watching TV, then had some chicken nuggets..." [Laughter] Oh, no, it gets better! "Slept for two hours, then went back and got some more nuggets." [Laughter]
Jeremy: Some say, he has twelve GCSEs, all in Domestic Science. And that he has been producing artificial sperm for years. Even though we have repeatedly asked him not to. All we know is, he's called The Stig.
Richard: [on the Morris Marina that James is driving] I'll guarantee that nothing exciting, vibrant, dynamic, new, creative, hopeful or beneficial in any way to humanity has ever been done, thought of or driven to in that drab, dreary, entirely beige, wilfully awful pile of misery.
James: Oh come on its not that bad... it's well equipped. Course it isn't well equipped really - its got one dial. But its tastefully upholstered. Of course it isn't tastefully upholstered really - it's brown. But the seats are velour and look how nicely it's worn!
[During the discussion on the new Jaguar XJ]
James: Come on! Nobody gives a pig’s arse about all that diesel stuff. (Crowd Laughs) It’s the new XJ; the important question is “Is it a proper Jag?”
Jeremy: Now what you mean is “Is this car slightly caddish?” Is that what you actually mean?
James: (nods) Yes.
Jeremy: Is the person who drives it a bit... um, what’s the word? Im not quite sure how to sum it up, but it’s the sort of person who would go away for a weekend with his wife to a hotel, to some romantic place, and spends the entire night... flirting outrageusly with the waitress. And it’s okay because he’s got a “Jaaaaag.”
Richard: That’s the Jag driver; he’d get away with anything! (Changes tone) I’m terribly sorry, I ran over your dog. (Whimpers) ...in my “Jaaaaag.”
James: Is it fair to say? Do you think that no “Jaaaaag” driver is ever entirely trustworthy, but it’s in a really nice likeable way?
Jeremy: Yes! If you would go to a prison, forget the sort of "stabbists", and you know the stranglers. The ones who are in there for a bit of Tax Dodging...
Jeremy: I bet eighty percent have got “Jaaaaags.” (Crowd laughs) You know what I mean now?
(Turns to someone in the audience)
Jeremy:You got a Jag? Who here’s got a Jag? (Stands up then points at someone who responded) You got a Jag? Look at him!
Richard: Yup, he’s a Jag driver.
Jeremy: He goes away with a sort of girl for a weekend, and then goes... “Awfully sorry...”
Richard: ... bit of an issue with the wallet.
Jeremy: “Would you mind awfully settling this while I go warm up the “Jaaaaag?”
[During the discussion on the Honda FR-V]
James: That's, actually, that's not the worst bit about those, those six-seater cars, because it could be worse if you had your wife in the front, and both daughters, and you sat in the back.
Jeremy: [sympathetically] Ohh.
James: No, but you do see that occasionally. You see the mother in the front, and then, and then there's a bloke sitting in the back seat.
Richard: On his own.
Jeremy: It's tragic.
James: There's nothing more pitiable.
Jeremy: It's the most pitiable sight you can see.
James: She's effectively saying, "You've given me the baby, now get in the back."
Richard: [nodding] Yeah.
Jeremy: [stares at James for a moment, then bursts out laughing]
James: [realizes what he said, points at the camera]... No.
Jeremy: Uh, that... concludes the news, OK? [looks at James and bursts out laughing again, this time taking Richard with him]
Jeremy: We have had some problems with the Morris Marina Owners' Club—
Richard: Problems!? They've declared a fatwa on us!
James:[During the Braking test] COCK! [he then crashes into his own piano]
[During the Val Thorens race, Jeremy's windscreen has been coated with snow...]
Jeremy: [panicking] I CAN'T SEE A BLOODY THING!! [accidentally pulls off glove while steering] AAGH, pulled my own glove off!
Jeremy: Tonight! I wear some goggles. Richard falls down a small slope. And James says "Hello" to a man!
[On The Stig]
Jeremy: Some say, that on Thursdays he becomes incredibly bulbous. And that recently pigs in Mexico started to die of something called "Stig flu". All we know is, he's highly contagious!
[driving in Majorca]
Jeremy: [voiceover] Mind you, it wasn't exactly plain sailing for me either.
Jeremy: [on a motorway at rush hour] Come on please, traffic, please, please, how can they have a rush hour in Majorca? Nobody does anything. Get up, throw a donkey off a tower block, sit in a plastic chair by the side of the road, go to bed. Where does a rush hour come from in that?
[About Morris Marina Owners' Club]
Richard: Last week a piano was accidentally dropped on a Morris Marina as we were filming it.
Jeremy: Last time this happened the Morris Marina Owners' Club, which is like the provisional wing of the "Morris Men", is absolutely furious.
James: Actually, there's been a lot of activity on a Morris chatroom: "I'm going to send an e-mail to the BBC and I don't care if they don't read it."
Jeremy: Now, that's what they said last time, okay. This time - getting worse. They say they're gonna get physical. I'm quoting now, one of them says (and I'm not making this up): "If I see Jeremy Clarkson in the street, I will poo into my hand and throw it at him."
Richard: [incredulous] What, they'll poo into their own hand?! That's a stupid way of getting someone! That's like an assassin lining up on the target and then shooting them through his own head! Bang!
Jeremy: Tonight, Richard has a crisis. Some sheep on our track. And James and I go to the lavatory.
Jeremy: Yes, and welcome to the final show in the series.. [Crowd shows disappointment and sighs] Sad.
[On The Stig]
Jeremy: Some say, that he cut that man's hair [pointing at the man in audience]. And that if he compensated a soldier for getting wounded, he wouldn't try to take it all back again! [huge cheers from audience]
Jeremy: Now, eh as I'm sure you know, we don't often do consumer advice on this show, but tonight, we are. Because you see, if you were in a market, for large, fast, spacious, executive saloon cars, you'd imagine, that you'll be spoiled for choice. Me too. However, Richard Hammond, who is quite mad, has decided that every single one of them has a fatal flaw.
Richard: This car is Australian, and the Bathurst is Australia's most famous race. Basically, it's a place where Holden and Ford fans go to have a massive fistfight, and then in the interval, when the paramedics go in, sometimes a car race breaks out.
[Richard Hammond commenting on the VXR8 Bathurst
Richard: I'm sorry, if this car doesn't move you, that is your problem, not the car's. Just the fact!
[During the News, after concluding that throwing a G-Wiz electric car into a river would be safe for the fish]
James: I'm not convinced by that, though, because I think electricity is a mystery.
[Jeremy rolls his eyes and looks at the audience]
James: It is! No—I don't actually believe in it.
Jeremy: You don't believe in electricity?
James: No, nobody really understands it.
Jeremy: [Indicating James] What you are witnessing here is Asperger's made real.
James: [Confused] Is that what makes my wee smell funny?
Jeremy: No—! [He laughs]
James: [Laughing as well] Oh no, that's asparagus!
[During the News, about forbidding people not interested in cars to drive]
Richard: If you haven't got the interest, you can't do it...you shouldn't be allowed to do it.
Jeremy: No, exactly. I mean, it would be like asking him [points to Richard] to cook Sunday lunch. Could you cook a Sunday lunch?
Richard: Yeah, you... boil the meat or whatever... no, I'm not—
Jeremy: You see?
Richard: I'm not interested in food so I'm not interested in cooking.
Jeremy: There you are, you see? You wouldn't ask him because he's not interested to cook you any food, you wouldn't ask me to do the washing up, you wouldn't ask James to... direct a porn film.
[The audience laugh as Jeremy looks very matter-of-fact]
James: Well, hang on. You say that, I think I'd actually direct quite a good porn film.
Jeremy: If you directed a porn film, it would be you arriving at the house of the woman in the stockings and you'd go [takes on a deep voice in imitation of James] "I've come to fix your boiler". And then you'd just fix it.
James: [considering] Might be. What's wrong with that?
[Talking about Jeremy's 1st VW ad featuring a Scirocco Diesel and some explosions]]]
Jeremy: What do you think of that?
James: It's rubbish.
Jeremy: Why is it rubbish?
James: It's not funny, and it's not true. We've been to see those clever blokes in the agency, they've told us what VW advertising is like. How can you hint at 55 miles to the gallon with an explosion?
Jeremy: Well, it's an Aston Martin Vantage with a V12 engine. What do you think it's going to be like? It is fantastic. It is wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. What it makes me feel, though, is sad. I just can't help thinking that thanks to all sorts of things...the environment, the economy, problems in the Middle East, the relentless war on speed... cars like this will soon be consigned to the history books. [drives past pictures of similar cars that have fallen out of use] I just have this horrible, dreadful feeling that what I’m driving here is an ending. [looks at the camera] Good night.