I once stopped at a Little Chef very early in the morning and I said, "Can I have an omelette?" The woman said "No, I'm sorry sir, the powder hasn't arrived yet."
Through the corners there's just no way that I can keep up with the man in the Maserati because he is driving a racing car and I... I'm wrestling a mad yellow bear! This, honestly, is Winnie The Pooh with road rage.
If you take the gearbox out of race mode and put it in everyday "going to the shops" auto, it sits down there, in the bowels of the car thinking,
"Now, he's just pulled that lever, that means I have to do something. What is it? I have to bake a cake? No... Mow the lawn? No... I know! I'm a gearbox! He's pulled the lever, that means he wants third!"
It's so dim-witted and slow in normal mode, it makes the whole car feel like it isn't joined up properly.
Some say that he is the only man in history to buy a DFS sofa when there wasn't a sale on. And that his favourite boxing venue is Munich Airport. All we know is, he's called The Stig.