IN THIS FEATURE "I will have to shoot you if you do that!" Rain, rain everywhere Sounds like James Brown Culture clash of the titans Making mincemeat of an SLK 55 Deserving of a GT title?

The rain comes at us in sheets. Our SLR has been fired up to warm its vital fluids, its enormous side-exit exhausts blowing cumulus clouds of vapour. And this thing has presence and menace in equal measure, a cartoonist's dream of what truly excessive motoring is all about. Popeye's nemesis Bluto would drive this car, with its bonnet that goes on and on and on. It has to be comically long because the SLR's supercharged V8 sits well aft of the front axles for better weight distribution. The McLaren's proportions aren't helped by that foreshortened bum, either.

True to promise, the large boot easily swallows our luggage. And then a little theatre as we punch the release buttons and watch as the doors gracefully arc skyward. In this mode our black SLR looks for all the world like a cormorant giving its wings a bit of a stretch.

Don't go near traction control button if roads are damp

We slide across the wide sills and drop into snug and superbly supportive seats. The cockpit is spacious and the view out is good, except for the fact that the sloping bonnet disappears, driver nervously aware that there's a good three feet of SLR that he can't see.

Colin takes the first stint, his right foot gently inquiring into the exact nature and disposition of this, one of the world's most powerful V8 engines. We switch the traction control off. Colin stabs the throttle and the car snaps sideways. We switch the traction control on...