If you like your cars like your swimming pools - open-aired and jammed with Playboy bunnies - then Mercedes have something that might just tickle your tastebuds. Or rather, those which haven’t yet been deadened by the inexplicably expensive champagne in which your habitually doggie paddle. Looking like a stretch version of an Audi A4 convertible from some angles, the brand new Merc-Maybach S650 is without question the Donald Trump of luxury end motoring. In as much as you’d openly mock the concept of it running for office, right up until that shocking juncture where the nightmare became a vivid and inescapable reality. The MercBach is the first word in refinement, smugness and knowing one’s automotive status in life, all of which is delivered with classless ease from the moment you clap eyes on this toff’s ragtop. Conveying the peerless presence of a Bavarian autocrat, bedecked in lederhosen and a chinchilla-furred hairpiece, the S650 is the ultimate statement in Ferrero Rocher’d exuberance. The sort of ride which effortlessly brings all the boys to the yard; damn right.
According to people in glass houses, the ‘S’ stands for Septuagenarian, which is the target age of owner/occupiers of such a motoring property, and ergo has received the full Bernie Ecclestone treatment inside. From the Italian Nappa leather (complete with proactive perforations, outer diamond quilting and Maybach logos imprinted on the front and rear of all the interior chairs, which themselves are rumoured to be inspired by waterfalls) to the dickie seats and the gentle waft of Martin Brundle’s breath on the back of your neck when you press the ‘Brundle Steamer’ button located on the dash. Just beneath the on-board Current Trading Price of Sheepskin calculator.
I'm Bringin' Merc Back (yeah), Them Other Boys Don't Know How to Act (yeah), I think it's Special, What's Behind your Back (yeah), So Turn Around and I'll Pick up the Slack (yeah)
The lap of luxury which greets you is ramped up by the very notion that the trim will have been individually commissioned, regarding hue, saturation and grain; with each car having been right royally pre-felched before coming off the production line. Even the lines which frame the wood veneer were supposedly precision-milled to create a three-dimensional effect which helps you envisage horrifically realistic dinosaurs before your eyes. Apparently the blueprint for the MercBach was the Arrow 460-Granturismo yacht, which is a boat and moreover represents the last word; in a dictionary which finishes at the letter ‘G’.
Out on the road the S650 MercBach is alleged to behave like a car; one which wants for nothing in life, and can hit 62mph (and countless grouse and serfs) in but 4.1 seconds, whilst going on to acknowledge 155mph and little else besides. And then there’s the exclusivity of the thing. With a mere 300 MercBach cabriolets being joylessly threaded together, the odds are that you’ll be one of just 300 potential other people with one. On the downside one of the other 299 new owners will be Simon Cowell. And 50 Cent too, I would imagine.
Simon Cowell, a Platinum-spec Self-fellatio Pack and Long Tuscan Evenings
Speaking of ample chest hair and disproportionate trousers, you’ll probably be wanting to know precisely what the big S65 packs in terms of thrusting love muscle? Well, with a 6.0-litre biturbo V12 and 625bhp tightly compressed into the under bonnet space (the same as the £193,000 Mercedes-Maybach S650 Cabriolet as it happens, which costs £67k less), there’s more than enough grunt to keep partners and casual acquaintances happy. So moving away from the pit face, what does the additional £67k get you? Quite a bit, actually, including a new front bumper and an array of chrome sporadically spunked around the MercBach. Oh, and talking about money well spent, the Maybach badge is now found on the wings, while stupendously rich folk will be able to marvel at their own hunter/gatherer reflection in the fuckmassive 20” ‘bichromatic’ forged rims.
Finally there’s a host of extras included as standard which are essential if your manhood casts a shadow long into a Tuscan summer’s evening. Such as a four-piece luggage set, (hand-woven by Dale Winton and which will coordinate with the interior of your car, providing its orange), as well as what Mercedes describe as ‘a high quality car cover’, and in the same breath, ‘but definitely none of that cheap, lycra-esque stuff you get from Halfords’. What’s more, there’s plush, dense floor mats which are evidently Made in Chelsea, a platinum-spec self-fellatio pack, a chrome-plated and bullet-proof ‘1 of 300’ badge and a hand-written and signed welcome pack/certificate from Daimler boss, Dr Dieter Zetsche; confirming what a gullible, superficial twat with more money than mistresses you are. All yours for £260k.