The most astonishing custom import you've ever seen?
Friday, November 02, 2007 @ 9:58 AM
I got a migraine so bad that I had to leave work early, after an encounter with what must surely be the Baddest Import in the entire state of Tennessee.
I wish I had a picture. But my cell phone curled up and shrieked in horror when I tried to capture this vision for your admiration.
We've all seen half-hearted attempts at Japanese car personalization. This, my friends, made the familiar ricer look like child's play. It was so extreme that it was fascinating -- RIVETING in its sheer, awful splendor and pursuit of extremity.
The commitment to alteration ran so disturbingly deep that this car was transported to another astral plane.
I'll try to tell you about it, but fear that words are not sufficient descriptors for something none of my previously-used adjectives are accustomed to depicting. That's right. My words ran away screaming too.
A boxy subcompact, it may have been born a Mitsubishi Lancer. But its body lines were now distorted beyond recognition by ledge-like strips of molding down the sides and a sheet metal platform bolted onto the rear deck. The doors were painted dark metallic gray, like a glitter-covered shark.
The roof, bumpers and hood were midnight blue fading into deep purple, dolled up like a Mystic Cobra groupie trying to get backstage.
There were Harry Potterish silver stars down both sides. Purple and silver stripes criss-crossed at random points on the doors, though I had to look away several times and can't be sure of their exact placement. The decal of a nationally-known customizing emporium graced the bumper, and 20" chrome wheels adorned the four corners of this bedazzling jewel box.
Not just any wheels, but the type that look cut from a slab of metal with a few round holes rather than having distinct spokes. Being familar with the televised exploits of this shop, I'd say they were Davin Revolution 7.2s.
Not an inch of this car was left untouched. Even the taillights gleamed like oval crystals in the sun - which, by the way, was also shuddering at what its rays had revealed.
Mr. Merlin had painted the wing reflective purple and silver, and decorated the air vent on his hood with silver stars. He rested in the front seat, coiled like the guardian of an elaborate genie bottle as he monitored his surroundings for admirers. Maybe he was on his way to NOPI to pick up a prize for Best Disguise - Exterior, because it looked like he'd spent a fortune on making the car completely unidentifiable as any known model.
I was torn between fascination and horror. I doubt I'll ever see anything like it again. Nor do I particularly want to. It was as if my eyes had eaten an entire box of Twinkies; something that might be tasty in moderation imbibed in O.D. proportions.