Somehow, and I apologize for this, it has been maybe almost a year since I did an Automotive Would You Rather?! How is this possible? It feels wrong, possibly illegal, and I’m here to take care of this problem. Besides, tomorrow is Our Nation’s Birthday, and that means you’ll have plenty of time to really mull this over and use it as a sure-fire make-you-seem-smart-and-charming conversation starter at whatever July 4 cookout or BBQ or swing party you end up at. So with that in mind, let’s spend a few moments in the inane fantasy world that is Would You Rather!
I suppose I should refresh everyone with just how this all works: I’m going to give you two scenarios, each sort of monkey’s paw-esque in the sense of having great benefits and yet also some manner of an awful consequence, too, because that’s what makes this fun. You’ll pick, via a poll, which one of these two scenarios you would rather engage in! It’s fun! Kinda!
Since it’s America’s Birthday, let’s use something wildly American as the basis for this first scenario, something that is American and, I believe, globally adored: American cheese. Yes, vivid orange sliced American cheese, of, say, the Kraft Singles variety. Let’s get to it!
Scenario One: The Kraft Singles Signal Significance Situation
You’re loading up your car after a visit to the grocery store, where you have purchased a bunch of food for your upcoming July 4 cookout. Among all of the ground beef and hot dogs and other traditional July 4 foods like lutefisk and clamdingers (a family favorite made from seared clams, mangoes, and spider cheese, served on the traditional stick) you also have at least a dozen packs of Kraft Singles for cheeseburger use, because, as a famous chef once noted, American cheese is the best cheese for a cheeseburger:
As your arms are laden with all those packs of sliced cheese food while you attempt to maneuver it all into the small trunk of your, let’s say, Triumph Spitfire, a sudden lightning storm launches onto the scene, and a crack of lightning bursts out of the sky, the jagged bolt of raw electricity entering right at the crown of your head and traveling down your body to seek ground under your feet.
You’re dazed for a moment, but shockingly unharmed; all of the cheese is gone save for a swirling eddy of plastic wrappers in the wind; you feel strangely oily and – how would you describe it – infused with a certain cheeseful energy.
Later, viewing the security footage from the supermarket reveals what happened: the lightning seems to have fused the dozen packs of sliced cheese with your body. Doctors are baffled, but you seem to check out okay, except for your blood pressure, which was an issue before, anyway.
When you go to sleep that night, you have a vivid dream; a voice: dulcet tones of James Lewis Kraft, issued to you via his ghost are informing you that you are now One With the Cheese.
As such, you have been granted a wonderful power: you can manifest any car you want, into actual reality, in perfect condition, provided you eat an entire large pack of Kraft Singles in one massive wad. You know, eating it like you’d eat a sandwich, or a slice of cake.
Eating the pack of cheese gives you the power to do this amazing thing, and the car – which will always be Kraft Singles Yellow/Orange – will exist for as long as the cheese remains in your system, which should be about 24 to 48 hours, depending on your digestion.
Once the last molecule of kraft cheesium leaves your system or is converted to energy, the car will disappear, immediately and without warning. So if you’re on the highway going like 70 mph, maybe hold in that poop until you’re safely stopped.
I mean, I guess you would anyway? We’re not animals! But still, you get what I mean. Also, probably a good idea to keep a pack of Kraft Singles on you at all times, right? Just in case.
Scenario Two: Tell Them You Think They’re Hot
For the past year or so, you’ve been feeling sort of spiritually unmoored. You’ve been exploring a lot of options, when you happen to find a flyer for a group called the Motorlusticrucians on the floor of your local Fight Club, the less said about which, the better.
Intrigued, you go to a meeting, and find yourself among a small group of acolytes to a guru of sorts, a person who claims to have powerful mystical powers. She notices you immediately, and tells you that you have an aura that is both powerful and surprisingly compatible with one of the order’s most potent mystical relics.
The relic takes the form of an enchanted tongue-ring, which she slips effortlessly over your tongue. It feels strange, but not uncomfortable, and you soon find yourself used to it. The guru then explains that this tongue ring, when combined with a person of your particular frequency and amplitude of aura, will grant you an incredible power.
The relic will give you the power to make anyone give you, willingly and without regrets, their car, and all you have to do to make it happen is to tell them you find them sexually attractive. [Ed Note: I cannot believe I’m publishing this. -DT].
Now, you don’t actually have to find them sexually attractive, but it can’t hurt; all you need to do is look them in the eye, confess that you find them erotically appealing in an earnest and clear tone, and they will immediately and enthusiastically give you their car in whatever condition it is in, and that includes signing over all paperwork and all that boring associated administrative crap. You own that car now.
If you see someone at a car show getting out of, say, a Nissan Skyline GT-R that you’ve always wanted, all you need to do is make sure your tongue ring is on, sidle up to them, and confess your lust, and boom, the keys will drop into your hands.
This is not to say they will reciprocate this expressed desire or even react well to being told it; they may freak out or call security on you, but you will be given their car. This could complicate any potential repercussions, because it does look sort of weird to outsiders if you’re complaining about the unwanted sexual interest admissions from a person you just gave away your car to.
Sometimes the awkwardness and repercussions of the admission may be more than it seems worth, but then again, there are some incredible cars out there. In the case of confessing your sexual attraction to someone with a large car collection, it appears that you will be able to state which car you’d like to have, which is nice.
So, what’s it going to be? Eat whole pack of cheese for a yellow car of your choice for 24 to 48 hours, or be able to have anyone give you a car just because you say you think they’re hot? Choose wisely!
I do love a good cheeseburger, or a grilled cheese. A cheeseburger with double cheese is almost too much, and a grilled cheese with more than 1.5 slices is definitely too much.
I feel nearly ill when going just a little bit over my own personal optimal American “cheese” intake.
I don’t think I could actually eat a whole package in a day and keep it down, so the tongue ring is the only answer for me.
You can avoid most of the awkwardness by only picking up cars far from home (and I’d absolutely be careful to only use my powers against rich, shitty people–I’d feel bad if I took some nice person’s vehicle just because I liked it and/or found that person attractive). And the cars won’t pop out of existence.
I would probably reconsider my vote if the cheese cars lasted until I ate another package of cheese to manifest another car.
This “article” is way out there, and not in a “Far out, man!” way. It’s obviously not serious, but it’s more random than clever weirdness.
Is there a requirement to publish a certain number of posts per week, no matter the quality? Be careful, because TTAC appears to suffer from that problem and is dying a slow and painful death.
I suggest you sit back and simply ignore the infrequent “Would you rather?” segments.
This is simply Torchinsky being his unbridled, weird, obsessive and creative self.
There are hits and misses, but I generally enjoy these at least as much as any regular published auto review. (Not as much as the reviews of oddball cars, but that’s a special category of its own.)
Does anyone know the half-life of lead acid battery dust?
Parts of that gives me “urges contrary to swallowing”
I have missed these Jason,thank you. Now,bring back Mack Hardigraw please.
Regarding this matter I suppose I wouldn’t have much of a problem hitting someone up to get their car,the problem would be where to start..
On the other hand I suspect that scarfing down a pack of heavily processed cheese related food would actually make it relatively hard to digest anything,so it would probably be some time before a refill was needed.
We’re back baby!!
Well, another example of why I enjoy the Autopian! Even if Jason’s articles/stories/vividly described fantasies had absolutely nothing to do with cars, I’d still enjoy them immensely. It often reminds me of Douglas Adams’ work (HHGtG, etc…) and that’s high praise.
This time I chose the path that most have: confessing sexual attraction and being given a car in exchange, mostly because I’m too old and tired to care if people don’t think that well of me anymore. Telling someone that I really like the way they fill out their jeans regardless of how they’ll take my confession seems like a small sacrifice to make in exchange for a minty Citroen DS. 😉 Even if it also cost me a punch in the mouth or something.
Don’t get me wrong: I love cheese of all kinds, as do most sentient mammals, and I’m not so snobby that I can’t enjoy me a grilled cheese sammich made with Kraft Singles, but eating a whole pack would probably perturb my GI tract. In a day or two (or three… I’ve never done it, but I suspect eating all that processed cheese food would slow the process, so to speak) I’d be carless again.
So, sexual attraction confession it is.
The second one is the obvious choice. This could be a great money making enterprise. Whenever you get a chance, hit on anyone with a car worth more than $50k. Then, sell those cars en masse to a place like Carvana. Repeat until billionaire.
Alternatively, just hit on Jay Leno repeatedly until you own his collection. I figure I could at least get twenty or so before he got a restraining order.
Also, Kraft singles are vile.
I would be all over Jay Leno as well.
One of my first thoughts was that if each of us here got this power, Jay Leno is going to be so very confused in the near future.