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A trail of smoke, screeching rubber and a V8 barely tickling 3000 revs, but creating a sound so terrific that the entire hill station comes to a dead halt. Now multiply that by a factor of two and the strong arm of the law had to get us to vacate the place quicker than you can say 'shoot'.
Days like these don't come often. Rarer still is getting both the cars to steer the wrong way, the rear tyres squealing in protest and the nose not having a conversation with a hedge. Or a crash barrier. Or air, lots of it, 300 feet down. Add the joy of one of India's best driving roads and you know what I mean.
There's absolutely no reason to bring them together, apart from, well, the fact that they both are blue, have very similar horsepower and go about things in a very similar fashion. But they also represent the fading away of a breed of supercars, cars whose front ends would go light. Whose bodies would shimmy over bumps, with heavy clutches and gated shifters that snatched an arm and leg. Now, they are just flappy paddles, lots of settings and an ESP system that snatches away as much fun as it gives you.
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