For those wanting to ride in a 2015 Ferrari 458 Speciale, this might be as close as you will ever get. John Lewis gloats about his experience in one of the fastest and most expensive cars in the world.
Remember when you were a kid playing in the school yard, being tackled to the ground by the class bully, who then proceeded to sit on your chest, pin your arms behind your head and spit in your eye?
That weight on your chest, that vulnerability - that's what it's like sitting in the passenger seat of a 2015 Ferrari 458 Speciale, going from zero to 100kmh in 3.0 seconds.
That kind of power can take your breath away. It's discomforting, even without the spit in your eye.
The 4.5-litre flat-plane crank V8 engine in the 458 Speciale pumps out 445kw, making it the most extreme normally-aspirated V8 engine ever made by Ferrari.
It is capable of reaching speeds of more than 325kmh, and can accelerate from zero to 200kmh in about 9 seconds.
And at a cost somewhere between $NZ500,000 and $700,000 - depending on what options you take - it is one of the most expensive cars in New Zealand.
The ODT got the chance to ride in one recently, so that we can tell you what life is like in the fast lane.
The local owner didn't want to be named or photographed, so he lent us the car for the afternoon, with a driver he personally vetted.
Sadly, that driver was not me. The "preferred driver'' was no less than the Kiwi cousin of Top Gear's mysterious super-car driver, The Stig. We'll call this Kiwi version The Stick.
(Some say he has the eyes of a possum behind that tinted helmet visor, and the underside of his car is coated with the fur of unlucky Central Otago rabbits).
All we really know is, he has a lead-plated right foot and he wasn't afraid to push the Ferrari 458 Speciale to its limits. What could possibly go wrong?
We took the car for a spin, pushing it to its extremes.
Having never gone from zero to 100kmh in 3.0 seconds before, the big question in my head was: what would it feel like?
To put it in laymen's terms, it felt a bit like the skin on my podgy face was being pulled to the back of my skull, and for a few fleeting moments, I felt like the pouting supermodel that I've always felt I am on the inside.
We've all heard that comical question: What goes through a fly's brain when it gets hit by a Ferrari?
In this case, I can confirm the answer is: whatever is left of its butt.
Talk about metamorphosis. That poor fly had no idea what hit it.
All I heard was a popping sound and a yellow, gelatinous splodge appeared on the windscreen.
So, we're cruising along comfortably, and I think it's a good time to ask The Stick if the novelty of all that acceleration ever wears off.
Big mistake.
Immediately, without saying a word, he stomps on the brakes and comes to a complete stop within about 4 seconds.
I half expected him to make a thumb gesture, signalling me to get the hell out.
Instead, he stomps on the accelerator again, slamming my head back into the head rest.
Three seconds later, when we've reached 100kmh, he puts the massive disk brakes into action again, bringing us to a complete stop. And then, you guessed it, he stomps on the gas again.
After he did it five or six times, I said: "OK, I get it. The novelty does not wear off".
It's actually quite intoxicating. The sound of the engine - it's a roar like nothing you've heard from a V8 before.
Although the car is like a rocket when it's going in a straight line, it is just as impressive and aggressive on tight corners.
Rumour has it, The Stick has had the Speciale going nearly 200kmh around corners that the less adventurous might tackle at 75kmh.
The car produces lateral G-forces up to 1.33 - the highest of any production car.
It beggars belief. How can a car corner so fast without ending up about a kilometre into a paddock among worried-looking sheep?
The answer: the Speciale has a dry weight of 1290kg (a lot of it is made of carbon fibre so it's light), which gives it a power-to-weight ratio of 2.16kg per horsepower.
But it manages to use all that power, even when on tight corners, by movable flaps front and rear which balance downforce and cut drag at speed.
It also has Side Slip Angle Control (SSC), an electronic system which improves car control when it is being driven at its limits.
Ferrari says SSC performs instant-to-instant analysis of the car's side slip, comparing it with the target value and then optimising both torque management (via integration with F1-Trac traction control) and torque distribution between the two wheels (via integration with the E-Diff electronic differential).
I love cars, but I have no idea what that last sentence means.
In my head, it appears to mean this car can go around corners at terrifying speeds, and is probably the reason why that smudge on the side window looks like my left ear.
Inside, the Speciale is sparse, with carbon bucket seats that compliment several bits of carbon-fibre trim, including a "prong'' between the seats where the seven-speed twin-clutch paddleshift gearbox's controls are housed.
But the steering wheel is where all the action is.
It's covered in switches and dials controlling almost everything about the car's performance - including modes of suspension and gear changes - and a row of flashing lights on top that indicate revs.
It also has more mundane controls such as the start button, lights, window wipers and blinkers. Surprisingly, there's even room for a horn and an airbag.
Before I even got into the car, I expected the ride to be an amazing experience, equivalent to sky diving or white water rafting.
But after doing it, I can honestly say, it was even more amazing than I had imagined it would be.
Some might ask, why buy a half million-dollar car with floor mats that cost about $1000 each?
Why would you want a car that requires servicing by someone who has to fly down from Auckland?
I say: if you can afford it, why wouldn't you?
Perhaps the best reason for buying this car is, if you bump into that childhood school bully again, he (or she) would have a hard job catching you.
As a parting gift to The Stick, for his time and expertise in taking me to "the edge'' in the Ferrari 458 Speciale, I ask him if he likes to drive vintage sports cars.
I then offer to let him ride in "Old Bluey'' - my wife's 1997 Nissan Sentra 2.0-litre SSS.
Without saying a word, he turns his helmet toward me and folds his arms.
Some might say I'm deluded, but I reckon he's keen.
