Top Gear Cockometer ((free)) -

“No, James,” Richard Hammond grinned, bouncing on his heels. “It stands for exactly what you think it stands for. And look—there’s a needle. Zero to ten.”

“Right,” Jeremy began, his voice echoing off the hangar walls. “James, Richard. Look at this. I thought I’d seen everything. A tyre pressure gauge that tells you the weather. A sat-nav that judges your parking. But this…” top gear cockometer

Richard laughed so hard he swerved. The Porsche’s sensor registered the swerve as “hotdogging” and dinged him to . “I wasn’t even doing anything!” he squealed. “No, James,” Richard Hammond grinned, bouncing on his

Richard attempted to overtake a caravan on a blind bend. The Porsche’s nose lifted, the dial buried itself at , and the voice announced: “Cock of the Year candidate registered. Sending telemetry to insurance database.” Richard went pale. Zero to ten

The Stig sat motionless in the driver’s seat of the new electric hyper-GT, its dashboard glowing like a spaceship’s night shift. In the studio, Jeremy Clarkson squinted at a small, new dial positioned just to the left of the speedometer.

The Volvo, parked silently between a Land Rover and a skip, displayed a final reading of .

Jeremy chose a matte-black Aston Martin Vantage with a titanium exhaust. “I shall be a perfect gentleman,” he lied.