Your ideal car.

I received a telephone call from Humphrey earlier, and he appeared in a very excitable mood.

“Guess what I’ve just bought!” he asked, then continued “No. No. I can’t tell you. Just go outside and I’ll be round in five minutes.”

Obviously this would turn out to be some unimportant piece of nonsense. Suddenly, a car sped round the corner, skidded a little, screeched to a halt and out jumped Humph.

“Do you like it!!!” he shouted.

“Like what?” I replied.

“The car you fool. Can’t you see? It is an almost pristine turbo-charged 1967 Ford Scrotum. Very few ever made it to this country. Several thousand were sold in the Benelux and Germany, but they realised too late that the name was an obvious disadvantage to marketing such a high end car in this country. However, that does not put me off. I’m quite happy to tell people that I drive around in a Scrotum, and am not ashamed to admit it!!!”

I put my head in my hands, and Humph jumped back into the car, starting revving the accelerator like a lunatic, then sped off down the street.