All language subtitles for The.Grand.Tour.S01E09.WEBRip.X264-DEFLATE[ettv]

Thank you. Thank you.

Thank you very much.
Thank you.

Danke. Danke und willkommen
in der Grosse Tour

which this week
comes from Germany!

Ja. We're here. We're here.

Specifically...
Specifically, we are
in the city of Stuttgart.

Except we nearly weren't.

Because one of your
local Green politicians

tried to ban us
from coming here.

I don't want to embarrass
the poor man on television.

So I've hidden his identity.

Yeah.

- Yeah.
- That's good.

That's appropriate.

I certainly don't want to
tell you his name.

Which is... Andreas Kasdorf.

Uh...

Not a popular man.
But you elected him.

Anyway, he says that
we'd be unwelcome here

because this is a very
bicycle-friendly place.

It... It isn't. It's the home
of Mercedes and Porsche.

- And Germany...
- Exactly.

Germany...

Germany is the cradle
of the automobile.

The car was
actually invented here.

It's the last place on Earth
you can drive a car

as fast as it will go
on the motorway.

- It's true.
- All true.

This is a true fact.
This is a true fact.

The Germans are
the only people on Earth

who really know
how to make a car.

This is...

- It's a true fact.
- It's true.

I'll tell you a story.

There was a Mercedes engineer

and a Jaguar engineer
having dinner one night.

The Mercedes engineer
said, "Ve haf..."

Forgive the accent.

"Ve haf a quality test
at ze Mercedes factory.

Every night, ve take a car
off ze line at random.

Ve put a cat in it,
close ze doors.

If... When ve come back
in ze morning,

ve know the door seals
are vorking correctly

if ze cat has suffocated."

Nah.

The Jaguar engineer said,

"We've got something very
similar at our factory.

We take a car
off the line at random.

We put a cat in it.
We close the door.

And we know the car's
been built properly

if, when we come back
in the morning,
the cat hasn't escaped.

That is...

- True story.
- Yeah. True story.

The strange thing is,

it isn't just cars
that are built well here.

- It's absolutely everything.
- Except wine.

Yes, except wine. Sorry.

Well, come on!

- Now come on!
- You drink that stuff?

I wouldn't wash my hair in it.

Are you sure?

It is literally everything,
though.

German soft toys,

better than anybody
else's soft toys.

Cameras, kitchen appliances.

The Queen of England,
she's German.

She is. That's why
she's still working

even though she's a hundred
and forty seventeen years old.

There is no word here
for "that'll do".

There is no ambiguity
at all in Germany.

You certainly see this
with films.

The names you have
for American films.

I've got some here.
Remember Airplane?

Airplane, yes.

In Germany, it was called

The Unbelievable Journey
In The Crazy Airplane.

That is a comprehensive title.

You know where
you are with that.

What was Jaws?

The what? The Weisse...?

The White Shark.

It should have been
The Massive Shark

That Explodes Eventually.

You know where
you're going with that.

What was...
What was Basic Instinct?

Just not

A Brief Glimpse Of
Sharon Stone's Vagina?

- Shall we get on
with the show?
- Yes, good idea.

Because in tonight's
car programme...

Richard walks a dog.

James hangs around a gym.

And I say "Good shot."

Good shot.

But before all that,
I'd like to talk

about the original Honda NSX.

We have a picture of it here.

When that car
was launched in 1990,

it was considered remarkable

because it was fast
and exciting like a Ferrari,

but unlike a Ferrari
of the time,

it was also incredibly reliable

and very, very easy to drive.

Honda killed that car off
12 years ago.

But finally, they've come up
with a replacement.

So I've been down to our
track to see what it's like.

This is it.

It costs �138,000.

Around the same
as a Porsche 911 Turbo S.

And it has the futuristic lines

you would expect
of a rare-breed Honda.

Power comes from
a 3.5 litre twin-turbo V6.

Backed up by a squadron
of electric motors.

Together, they give
the NSX 573 horsepower.

So you would assume
the performance

is something to shout about.

Now, if you ask Honda

for the technical
information on this car,

they will email you
a file so enormous

that it actually
breaks the internet.

And yet, nowhere in it does
it mention the 0-60 time.

They simply refuse
to tell us what it is.

I know 0-60 times are
irrelevant in the real world

and they're rather childish,
but look, this is a supercar.

It's top trumps, isn't it?
It's important.

So I'm gonna find out what
it is for you using this.

It is a data-o-logger.

Right. Put it in Track mode.

Here we go. Launch control.

Foot on the brake.
Mash the pedal.

Phwoarh!

I'm not sure that was
quite as neck-snapping

as a Nissan GTR,

but it wasn't far off.

Let's see what I did.

3.2 seconds 0-60.

Which means it isn't quite
as fast as a McLaren 570S,

or a 911 Turbo S,

or a Ferrari 488 GTB.

That's why they're
not mentioning it.

Honda is happy
to quote the top speed.

Which is 307 Km/h.

But that too is slower
than its rivals

from Ferrari, Porsche,
and McLaren.

So has the new NSX got anything

in the performance department

that makes it rise above
its supercar peers?

Well, yes, actually.

Firstly,
there are the brakes,
which are fly-by-wire.

There is no physical
connection to the pedal.

That's because they
have to harvest energy

to recharge the battery system.

It's a much cleverer
version of that

than you get on the Porsche 918,

a car that costs
five times as much.

Then there's the hybrid system.

It uses not one electric motor,

as you might expect, but three.

And the way it uses them
is well good.

The one at the back

is the wingman
for the petrol engine,

filling the power gaps
when the turbos lag.

This gives the NSX ballistic
pick-up at any speed.

Look, instant shove.
It's lovely.

But it's the two at the front
that are the real party-piece

because they drive a wheel

each totally independently
of each other.

Which means this car has

a sort of space-age
four-wheel drive.

And that means
extraordinary things happen

when you throw it into a corner.

So, as you approach
a corner like this one,

computers are
measuring the speed,

they're measuring G-force,
steering input, and so forth.

They're adding power
to the wheel

or taking power away from
the wheel as it's needed.

Then you get perfectly flat,
perfectly controlled corners.

It is a bit like
driving a Honda Civic!

There are people who would say

that technology
like this in a car,

helping it feel secure,
will make it dull.

But it doesn't feel dull to me.

It feels tremendous.

I'm going fast and I'm relaxing.

What's wrong with that?

But the futuristic
four-wheel drive

isn't the only piece of
23rd-century engineering

on the NSX.

The aerodynamics,
for example, are so clever,

they can cool all the motors

while providing vast amounts
of grip-enhancing downforce

to the front and rear wheels.

And it does all this
without anything

as old-fashioned
as huge wings and spoilers.

It's not just the technology,
which is brilliant,

it's that that technology
is on this car.

Yes, we have hybrid supercars.

We have the LaFerrari,
the McLaren P1,

the Porsche 918.

But they're in the
million-pound bracket.

This is only an eighth
of the price of the LaFerrari,

and it's actually cleverer.

I love this.

I love the way it looks.
I love the sounds it makes.

I like the sophistication
of the hybrid drive.

I like the performance.

I like the steering.
I like the interior.

I really, really like it.

And I find myself
wanting one quite badly.

The original NSX made
owning a supercar

less painful and less expensive.

This has done the same
for the hybrid supercar.

It really is a worthy successor.

James, Honda...

Honda took ten years
to develop that car.

And?

Ten years is an enormous
amount of time

to do a car.

You can't criticise something

because people spent
too long on it.

People aren't gonna say
"I'm not gonna look round
Cologne cathedral.

They took 600 years
to build it!"

Ooh.

Anyway, I love it.
I love that car.

Anyway, look, we've heard

what you've got to say
about the NSX.

Now it's time to hand it over

to a man who thinks that...

Well, potted plants
are a Communist plot.

Yep. Here he comes.
It's the American!

Come to England.
Shit weather. Shit beer.

And he's off!

Clearly in a tremendous mood.

But it is very wet out there.

Wipers flapping away

as he powers onto
the Isn't Straight.

Looking good.

Where I come from,

this thing's badge
is inaccurate.

Kind of like a loser's Cadillac.

And yet, strangely,
we're still waiting

for Cadillac's hybrid supercar.

Right, now,
flying into Your Name Here,

this really is a good day
to have four-wheel drive.

I'm sure even the American
can appreciate

the Honda's
hi-tech features.

What is this
Space Invaders shit?

Clearly not.

Right, full power
for the Isn't again.

Electric ain't for engines.
It's for lights and chairs.

He is not
a modern man, is he?

Right, carving through
the standing water.

Into Old Lady's House.

Slithering about a bit.

Now he's leaning on it
for the Unsettled section.

Past the hangars
and up to Sub Station.

Hard on those wi-fi brakes

for the second-to-last corner.

How's he gonna manage
through here?

Yes, stepping out a bit
under power.

Through Field Of Sheep,

keeping it tidy through
there, and across the line!

Right,

let's see now where the NSX
goes on our lap board.

Let's have a look.

- Oh.
- Oh, dear, James.

James.

Why didn't you tell us
it was very slow?

- It's streaming wet!
- So hang on a minute.

We've had a review from
a tortoise and a wet lap.

Which means we've
learnt precisely nothing.

Um... Yeah, you're right.
Nothing at all.

- Nothing at all.
- So let's move on.

Yes, let's do that by
popping some loose change
in the ticket machine

so we can park awhile
on Conversation Street.

OK, now...

- I've got some conversation.
- Good.

Last night at midnight,
there was alarm in Stuttgart.

The Green Party
that runs the city

asked everyone here not to
use wood-burning stoves

and not to drive
their car today.

- Why?
- Because of the smog.

Am I making this up?

There it is.

I can't...

I can't imagine
anything clearer.

That is... That is gin-clear,

but according to
the Green Party...

I'm not making this up.

You're all from Stuttgart, yes?

There is an alarm today

- because of the smog.
- Yes.

Where is it?

How clear is it on a good day?

- We've got a photograph here
of Beijing on now.

Let us compare and contrast

Beijing on a smoggy day
with Stuttgart on a...

- Not the same.
- ...a smoggy day.

Can I just ask,
what would you have done

if they'd have
actually ordered you
not to drive cars?

At the moment, it's an advisory.

If they said you are
banned from driving cars,

what would you have done?

Come on the train?
That's unbelievable.

But this is the thing

that we don't really
understand about Germany.

Once something becomes
a rule, it is a rule.

I once had a very
interesting conversation

with two friends of mine.

One is from California
and one is from Germany.

We were talking about
losing your driving licence.

The Californian said, "In
Germany, what would happen

if you lost your licence
and then you drove your car?"

The German said,
"No, you cannot do this."

He says, "I know
you're not supposed to,

but what if you did?"

He said, "No. You cannot
drive. You have no licence."

The Californian
went, "Yeah, man,

"but late one night, you just...

hell, you go for a drive."

The German went,
"It is impossible

to drive without a licence!"

- Impossible!
- Impossible.

There's an interesting thing
I discovered here.

On a motorway,
obviously you can drive
as fast as you like.

You get people
sometimes, not often,

cos your lane discipline
is unbelievable,

but sometimes they sit in the
outside lane just dawdling.

If you tailgate them... OK?
I've got the fines here.

You get a 400 euro fine,
two penalty points,

and a three-month ban
for tailgating.

- That is extreme. Ouch!
- Yes.

But if you overtake them
on the inside,

just go past them on the inside,

that's a 150 euro fine,
and one point.

Well, there you go.

No. This is where
it gets really good.

If you go on the hard
shoulder to overtake,
the emergency lane,

that's also one point
but only a 90 euro fine.

There's your answer.
That's what you do!

No, no.

No, because... Aha.
You may think that.

But if you fit your car
with blue lights,

flashing blue lights, basically,

you turn you car
into a police car,

you get... I've got
the point fines here.

20 euro fine
and no points at all!

What? You're joking!

- No, you don't understand.
- That is true.

That is very strange
to our ears.

Cos if you tried that
at home in the UK,

you would be charged
with impersonating
a police officer,

and you would never
get out of prison, ever.

People say Germans have
no sense of humour.

If you want to know
what no sense of humour is,

impersonate a policeman
in Britain.

Then you'll know
what no sense of humour is.

Right, that is the end
of Conversation Strasse.

We all like the idea of
a sports utility vehicle.

A car that can handle
the Australian outback
at the weekend

and then set a new
lap record at Hockenheim
on a Monday morning.

But even the German
car-makers

can't seem to make
the concept work.

We've got this from Audi.
The RS Q3.

Which is a dismal car.

BMW have the X4,
I think that's called.

Don't want one of those, either.

Mercedes have
this horrible monster.

They're all just rubbish.

And let me guess.
You have a solution.

- Yes, I do.
- Oh, God.

Yes, I do. A car

that is both sporty
and utilitarian.

This will be good.

Ye of little faith.
Watch this.

This is
a Land Rover Discovery

doing utilitarian things

in Britain's muddy underbelly.

And obviously
a machine like this

cannot possibly be
converted into a sports car.

Or can it?

First of all, we have to remove
this rather ungainly body.

You can't do that
with a modern car

because the body is the
chassis. It's the skeleton.

If you take it away,
you're left with nothing more

than a collection
of unjoined-up parts.

However, you can remove the body

on an old Discovery like this,

using nothing more
than one of these.

After just 40 minutes

with no help from anyone else,

I ended up with this.

Obviously
it's still utilitarian.

It will still wade
through rivers

and crawl its way
up muddy banks.

But now there's a...

a sporty flavour as well.

Without the heavy body, it
feels nimble, agile, light.

If it weren't for the fact
that the windscreen is now
very close to my face,

it would feel like
a Lamborghini Gallardo.

The only real problem with this

is that Britain
is a police state,

and if I took this
on a public road,

I'd be stopped immediately

by the constabulary
who would point out

that I was contravening about...

4,870 different laws.

It's not warm, either.

Oh, no, that's stupid!

Happily, both these
problems would be solved

when I fitted it with
the body from a sports car.

And this is the sports car
I've gone for.

A 1978 MGB.

Highly-trained men
are now removing its skin

which will then be mated

in a delicate two-hour
operation...

...to the internal organs

of the mud-plugging V8.

The following morning

my incredible car was ready.

It is incredible

that in a shed I have created
something which has...

eluded the combined might
of the motor industry.

It is a proper
sports utility vehicle.

I call it the MGD,

and now I'm going to find out

how well it works on a road.

This is... magnificent.

And it is quick. Oh, yeah.

To demonstrate just how quick,

I'm going to do a drag race

against the motor
industry's idea

of an SUV.

Little bit of play there.

Let's do this.

Come on! Yes, look at this.

The 1.5-litre diesel...

...is no match
for the 3.9-litre V8 MGD.

Come on, Pride of Britain!

Yes! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.

Ah... ah... ah.

Oh, God.

The brakes don't work.

With the performance box ticked,

I continued my testing.

In many ways,
the MGD puts me in mind

of an Audi R8 Spyder.

I mean, OK, in the Audi,
the dials would work.

And the switches.
And the brakes.

And the steering.

And it's a bit less
bouncy, but...

both of them

are four-wheel-drive,
two-seater,

drop-head V8s.

There is, however,
one very big difference

between the two cars.

You can't do this in an Audi.

Oh, yes. Yes.

Moments ago I was haring
round a handling track,

and now look.

It's brilliant.

- Oh, no!
Not now, you bastard.

I mean, you wonderful thing.

Choke. Oh.

Yeah, that...

It's on its shutdown thing.

It's just to save fuel,

it goes on two cylinders
sometimes.

Once the engine management
thingy had run its...

diagnostic program,

I was back on the move.

Here we go.

Yes.

Mighty four-wheel-drive
system hauling me up that.

What the hell?

Argh! Aargh!

I'm stopping. Stopping.

Oh, Lord,
that is not right, is it?

As I got going
for the second time,

I realised
I'd been a bit of a chump.

The mistake I've made,
of course,

is that I've introduced
you to this car

before I've really tested it.

That's not
what car-makers do.

They test a car and then show it

to the press and the public.

I'm doing that
the other way round.

I'm introducing this to you

before I've done
the testing and...

Oh, for Christ's sake.

You little beauty.

Er, now, yes, what was I saying?

I think the issue is
really you're watching
my workings-out here.

What you really want to see
is the finished product.

That's what I should have done.

Oh, Christ's sake.

Right.

At this point, I decided,
for no particular reason,

to scrap the MG idea

and go for
something else instead.

This is what I chose.

A 1980s Mercedes SL.

Partly because
it's the very essence

of quiet, urban restraint,

taste and elegance.

It's a car that was driven
by Bobby Ewing in Dallas.

Mostly, though,
I chose it because

it would fit more snugly
on the Discovery chassis.

This time,
the men worked tirelessly

for nearly a whole day

to marry the two cars

and the result was spectacular.

It's a car
I have justifiably called...

The Excellent.

The internal organs
from a Landrover Discovery

mated to the beautiful skin
of a glamorous Mercedes SL.

To create a vision of pure...

What's the word?

- Rubbish.
- It's not rubbish.

Did you paint it
with a brush or a bucket?

It's got those headlights
that swivel when
you go round a bend.

So they point at the road.

OK, let me ask you this.

Which would you rather have?

The Excellent or that Porsche?

- That Porsche.
- Why?

Because it's better
in every single way.

To prove my cynical
colleagues wrong,

I invited them
to go for a drive.

Oh, kind.

See? It's an optional extra
for the shorter gentleman.

- Are you comfy, Hammond?
- No.

- Is this as in as I can get?
- Yep.

Right, listen to this.

Oh, no, it moves!

We'd only gone a few miles
before Richard and James

completely changed their minds

and realised that The
Excellent was the best car

they'd ever been in.

No, we haven't.
Stop saying things

in voiceover that aren't true.

I thought you'd
changed your mind.

No! Maybe a bit.
It's worse than I thought.

- Can I put the heater on?
- That's not connected.

- Is it not?
- No.

- What's that dial down there?
- Speedometer.

Why have you got that one,
not that one?

- That doesn't work.
- Has it got a fuel gauge?

- Not as such.
- Has it got
a temperature gauge?

Not really.

There's a lot of wires
hanging out of the dash

that aren't connected to things.

You haven't given it
an interior.

- I can see the road.
- I can as well.

No, there's
a hole in the floor.

While Hammond and May had
one or two minor issues,

they both agreed that
if I were to put my car
into production,

it would make me a fortune.

No, we didn't agree
to that, either.

Look, I've
done the maths. Honestly.

The Discovery was �2,500.

Mercedes �4,500.
�7,000 for the work.

That's 14,000 quid. I could
sell this for �120,000.

- No, you couldn't.
- Yes, I could.

A Cayenne Turbo is 120.

A Cayenne Turbo is a proper
car built by Porsche.

This is two scrap cars
glued together by a Muppet.

It isn't designed
for people like you.

What, people with eyes?

People who can dress
themselves in the morning?

I'll tell you exactly
who will buy this car.

People who use
roundy-ended scissors.

Footballers.

- No, they won't.
- Footballers like Ferraris.

Yeah, and Bentleys
and Range Rovers.

- And Aston Martins.
- Not this thing.

To prove them wrong again,

I decided to head for
the nearby Chelsea
training ground.

These are people
who understand cars,
not like you two.

Yeah, they understand
cars, that's why they buy

Range Rovers and Aston Martins.

They buy those things

cos they didn't know
that you could do this.

- I like my car.
- It's shit.

They're flocking to it,
aren't they?

- You just watch.
- Do you mind

if I go and stand
next to something else?

Soon some players arrived,

which gave Richard
and James a chance

to show off their
footballing knowledge.

You're really tall.
You should play in goal.

Yeah, I do, I play in goal.

- I'm the goalkeeper.
- I know that.

What part of Chelsea
are you from?

- I'm from Belgium.
- Oh.

How do you know
they're footballers?

Well, do you not recognise them?

They're in football outfits.

He doesn't recognise you.

Where's...
Where's Alex Ferguson?

Why don't we ask him?

At this point I dismissed
my ignorant colleagues

so that I could operate
the subtitle machine.

- Can you do keepy-uppy?
- Yeah.

Take a shot at me.

Well, that's ridiculous.
What can I do with that?

You're supposed to jump.

...flipping horrific.

So you've butchered
a classic car?

Right, watch this.
Little toss...

No.

You need to think of...

- Ow.
- Saved.

Having established

that all top professional
footballers loved my car,

we got back on the road.

Did you get any orders?

I noticed that the car park

was still full of
Mercedes G-Class.

- I saw that.
- Listen.

I could put this
into an auction,

one of those posh,
up-market ones,

and it would sell for �120,000.

It would not!

To prove them wrong again...

Gentlemen,
people are examining...

Yeah,
they are the organisers.

They're wondering
about their carpet.

"Handcrafted by a renowned
British atelier...

sympathetically marries
the chassis with..."

- Did you write this?
- Course I wrote it.

"The interior would benefit
from some minor attention."

- Well, it would.
- With a hand grenade.

Lot number 132.

Soon the auction was under way.

Ferrari 308 GTB, at �118,000.

Lot number 127, start me
with this at 300,000.

And many of the punters
were happy

to pay six-figure sums
for the cars on offer.

At 270,000.

285 for the Countach.

The Countach
just went for �285,000.

I think I'm gonna sell
The Excellent

for more than that.

And then it was time.

Moving on to lot number 138A.

The Excellent.

It's a fantastic handcrafted,

very unusual machine,
as you can see.

I don't want you...

Beautiful, stylish
Mercedes Benz coachwork.

- Very unusual, unique...
- Unusual?

Here for sale this afternoon.

Start me
if you will on this at...

�425.

At �425...

Any advance at 400?

�500. 550 anywhere?

- Somebody's bid?
- 600 here.

650. 650. 700 now.

We're rattling up.

700 here. 700. 800 now.

Let's go for 1,000.

Let's get going.
Come on, let's sell this car.

- �1,000 here on my right.
- Are you bidding?

- No.
- Jeremy, are you bidding?

2,000 if you wish.

It's 2,000 and five.
Two, five.

3,000 now. It's 3,000 here.
Three, five anywhere?

Three, one.

At 3,100.

�3,200.

At �3,500.

- It cost me 14,000.
- 4,000.

At �4,000...

At �4,000, any more?

At �4,000.

Come and see us after.

You just lost ten grand.

He could have just
thrown it down the lavatory.

It was rubbish.

Hold on.

- You were bidding
on your own car.

Well, a bit. I just wanted
to get the ball rolling.

But even then it didn't work

because you only sold it
for four grand.

It cost you 14,000 to make

so you cost our production
company �10,000.

No, no, not true.

- I put a reserve on it.
- What reserve?

�100,000.

- �100,000?
- So it didn't sell at all,

which means you cost us �14,000?

Well, yes, but we've
ended up with The Excellent.

No, we're stuck
with The Excellent.

It's really difficult to
know, working with you,

things like this, is it ambition

or are you a lunatic?

Sadly there isn't time
to answer that question,

because it's time to play
Celebrity Brain Crash.

Our guest this week
is a local girl

who is responsible
for one of my all-time
favourite pop songs,

99 Red Balloons.

She is a singer,

she's an armpit hair enthusiast

and she's
an all-round good sport.

Ladies and gentlemen,
please welcome Nena!

- Where is she?
- I've got no idea. Um...

Oh. Oh, no...

It's hard to see
through the smog,

but yes, that is...

- Oh, no.
- What's happened here is...

Nena...

yes, she's been
carried away by 99...

- ...red balloons.
- Oh, no.

Bad.

Does that mean
she's not coming on, then?

Well, James, she's floated
up into the stratosphere,

her eyelids have frozen over
and her lungs are inside out.

So that is a no.

It's OK, though.

We anticipated
that Nena may float away.

We have a back-up plan.
We'll activate it.
You sit down.

You see, the thing is...
that more and more stuff,

these days, is being powered
by rechargeable batteries.

You know, phones, laptops.
That sort of thing.

And this is giving the world
a bit of a problem.

Because in Britain, our power
companies only produce

five per cent more power
than we need.

We're only just coping.

It's actually worse
in the United States

cos they produce 16% less
than they actually need,

which means they have
to import electricity.

So what is gonna happen
as more and more people

are buying
and using electric cars?

We're gonna need more power.
We may not be able to cope.

The solution, you may think,

is to build more power stations.

But if you even suggest that,

weird-beard
environmentalists run around

waving their arms
in the air, going,

"What about the polar bear
and the bats and the newt?"

Anyway, the point is
we are going to need
more and more power

to charge the batteries in
our phones, laptops and cars.

- Where are we
gonna get it from?
- This got us thinking.

How much electricity could we
possibly generate every day

How much electricity could we
possibly generate every day
just during our normal lives?

just during our normal lives?

And what if we could
harness it in some way?

This is
an office block in
the centre of London.

Like many office blocks,
it has a revolving door,

which spins constantly
as people come and go.

So, why not simply connect
that door to a generator

and turn all that spinning
into electricity?

And it's not just
revolving doors, either.

Many of us have dogs

and every day we take
those dogs for a walk.

A dog scampers hither
and thither, running ahead

and snouting under hedgerows.

So why not attach it
to a trailer like this?

Dog pulls the trailer along.

Inside this wheel is a dynamo.

It makes electricity,
goes along these wires

and into this capacitor,

and when that dial reads 100%,

I'm charging my phone,

So, dog's harnessed.

That was easy.
Attached to the trailer.

All I've got to do
is set her going.

And I've even planned
for that. So, here we go.

Fetch!

Ah-haa!

Yeah! Your favourite!

Chase!

Maybe this dog's broken?

Meanwhile, back in London,

James was charging his phone

from a contraption he'd
fitted to the revolving door.

And even Jeremy had decided
to get in on the action.

This school
sports day,

in my mind, is a power station.

All we have to do is fit
the children with harnesses

and I could have this
charged up in no time at all.

Here we go!

Straightaway we can see

that charge is being produced.

Not much, but some.

Come on, all of you!
Come on!

Put your back into it!
Catch him! Chop-chop!

This is the work of a genius.

Back in the countryside,

I'd mended my dog

and things were going
well here too.

As you can see,
the dog is now running,

the wheels are turning,

electricity is being generated.

He's basically
a four-legged Sellafield!

Sadly, however, in London,
it was the middle of the day

and no one had been using
James's door.

As a result,
his phone was dying.

So he had to get radical.

15%.

Nice.

Apart from
a couple of hiccups...

Go!

You'll have to put a little
bit more effort in than that.

...everything was going well.

The power was flooding in.

Oh, yes!

25%.

And we were forced to conclude

that it had been a successful
day for all of us.

Well, when I say all of us...

No. Look, listen.

I can see why you're
here. Um...

Obviously, fitting
children with harnesses

and then videoing them,

and they're not my children...

I got... I got 45% charge
in my phone.

I got 41% charge.

I got a different
sort of charge.

Anyway, since we had proved...

well, Hammond and I
had proved...

that it was possible
to charge up a telephone...

I began to wonder
if we could charge up a car

using nothing more than vanity.

In London alone,
there are over 750 gyms,

and every day they are
full of people

picking things up
and putting them down again

so they can be more attractive.

So why not use
all this colossal effort?

Let's harness it!

And that's exactly
what we have done.

Ten of the machines in this gym

have been connected to a device

which produces a smooth
flow of electricity

that's sent outside to this
G-Wiz in the car park.

Right now the battery is flat.

So I'm going to plug it in

and then after eight hours,
we'll see how far I can drive

on electricity that's been
generated in there.

Come on, you're slacking.

Right. Unplug from the gym.

Let's see how far we go.

Look at this. This is epic
because I'm driving along

in a car, sort of.

No fossil fuel has been burned,

and no atoms have been split.

Nothing's been fracked up.

Look, there's a man
pushing that pushchair.

Stick a little dynamo on that,

kid gets some fresh air,
I get more battery charge.

It's difficult to see who
loses from this arrangement.

I get a trip home,
effectively for nothing,

the people going to the gym
feel good, look good,

they become healthier,
the NHS saves money,

cos people are less likely

to have strokes
and what have you.

If one person in a hundred
gets a free gy...

Hang on.

I was enjoying driving on pedal

and cross-trainer power!

And with that, I think
it's back to the tent.

James... James May,

how far did you get

after eight hours of charging?

Actually, it was
better than I expected.

I did 21 miles.

Hang on, though. To get
from our office in London

to my home in nearly Wales,

that's 130 miles, 21 miles at...

So six stops at gyms,
eight hours a time,

and the actual driving,

it would take me three days

to get home!

Or, Hammond, just an idea,

you could maybe get
a petrol-powered car,

put some petrol in it,

and be home in two hours.

That's a better...
I'm gonna do that.

Yes. So there we are.

That's the future,
and it's made of petrol.

So we've addressed that nicely.

Moving on...

Now...

There are people
all over the world

who believe we are permanently
on the verge of nuclear war,

alien invasion or zombie attack.

It isn't a niche thing.

There's 120,000 of these
people at least.

They call themselves preppers.

- Morons.
- Shut up.

- Idiots.
- And these preppers,

in order to prepare for
an extinction-level event,

stock their homes
with essential supplies,

they go out into the woods
and practise tactics,

and they create what
they call bug-out cars.

They're brilliant.
Here is one. Look.

- Look at that!
- Yeah! I know!

- No, Hammond,
that is not brilliant.
- It is.

Are you saying we can prepare
for a nuclear attack

by putting some spikes
on the wheels of a Hyundai?

What if the nuclear attack

comes from the back
of the Hyundai?

All you're gonna do
with that car

- is snag your jumper on it.
- Oh, don't be so negative.

In this show you have wasted
14,000 of our pounds

on your stupid Mercedes car.

You have wasted all of our time

with your sweat-powered
electric car.

This is my thing.
Let me do it.

You do realise
there's no such thing

as a zombie, don't you?

Don't spoil it for him.

I like the idea
of being a prepper,

so I thought I'd have a go
at making my own bug-out car.

This is what I came up with.

It started life as a VW
campervan, high-top version.

But I've stripped it
of its hippie heritage

to turn it into a vehicle
that can bare its teeth

in a dangerous,
post-apocalyptic world.

And I love it!

I'm so unbelievably
pleased with this thing.

I feel invincible,
ready, prepared.

Which is hardly surprising,

given the modifications
I've made.

At the front, a battering ram.

You can be pretty sure
the roads won't be clear.

The ram itself
is fitted with spikes

for fending off zombies
at close quarters.

Then, up top,

a bank of powerful rally lights

to cut through the murky soup
of a nuclear winter.

Of course, not everyone
I meet will be friendly.

So, up here...

...weapons rack.

Everything I need

to defend myself against
cannibals and zombies.

Round here, water. Essential.

Subtle stuff too.
I don't want to stand out,

hence the camouflage paint.

But perhaps most importantly,

the whole of my
bug-out campervan

has been armour-plated.

I really have thought of
everything!

No, you haven't!

All you've done is ruined
a perfectly good campervan.

No, I haven't!
It's brilliant.

It's bullet-proof all over!

- Bullet-proof? Is it?
- Yes.

- Is it?
- Yes, it is.

- Oh, yeah, sounds like it.
- Tanks feel like that.

OK, then, these are guns.
Use them.

- What, on you?
- No, on the van. Shoot it.

- Are we ready, gentlemen?
- Yes.

Ha! Didn't go through!

Just chipped the paint.
That's all you've done.

- Yes. Hammond?
- Yeah?

What you're suggesting
is these aliens,

they're going to travel
trillions of miles

using a propulsion system
that we can't even conceive

and then they're going to
try and take over the world

using .177 air rifles?

Well, if they do,
I shall be ready for them.

Especially given
what I've done in here.

Inside, I've turned this
once-humble campervan

into literally
the highest-tech
command centre imaginable.

Up front,
carbon dioxide scrubbers,

just like the ones on Apollo 13.

They will purify the air,
even in case of radiation.

And you can measure
that radiation on these
systems up here.

Water. You may not
be able to find it.

Need to make it.
It's essential.

I've fitted a system
that recycles urine.

Basically you do
your number ones up there.

Operate the pumps.

They send the results up,

across, and into the water
purification system.

It emerges from that as
purest drinking water.

Food. I'm gonna need it.
I've got a chicken.

It lays eggs.
They go in there.

And perhaps best of all,
the p?t? de foie gras

of the bug-out community...

chicken soup.

I love all this. Setting
out into the wilderness

in my little house on wheels,

knowing I've got everything
I need, whatever happens.

What the...?

Am I penetrating
his bulletproof armour?

Yes. And his food.

Oh! That's my own urine!

- Are you two doing this?
- Yes, he is!

I'd get out of the way
if I were you.

The trouble with the chicken
is, it moves around,

making this a...

- Oh, good idea!
- Isn't it!

Right, reloading, James.
Reloading.

Oh, yes!

- Good shot.
- Not bad, was it?

Sort of game over now, really.

Hm.

Right...

It wasn't game over, though,

because I went back
to the drawing board

and started again.

Three months' work.

I've used the same basic
interior set-up,

but I've completely re-thought
the armour plating,

so that whatever
those two have...

Now, this is a Scimitar
light reconnaissance tank.

It's small, it's quite fast,
and it's quite manoeuvrable.

Its job is to skip around
the battlefield like a goat

and find stuff.

Now, look at Hammond, running
around in a mad panic.

He thinks I'm gonna
shoot him, but I'm not.

I'm just here
to mark him with a laser.

He's gonna shoot him.

Yes, this is a Challenger 2
main battle tank.

And this really is
a bug-out vehicle.

It's certainly a lot better
than, I don't know,

a Hyundai with spikes
on the wheels.

It'll totally protect its
occupants from radiation,

nuclear fallout, gas,

even a direct hit, thanks
to its incredible armour,

from any known
battlefield weapon.

Then there's this gun,
which is...

there's no other word...
enormous!

120mm.

And it could hit a target...

let's say
Richard Hammond's van...

while the tank itself is doing
30mph over rough ground.

I think, though, today
I shall fire while stationary

because I want to
savour the moment.

OK, thank you, chaps.
If we could stop there...

Right, going down.

Roger. Going down.

Oh, dear!

I've loaded the gun with
a high-explosive shell.

It's a tracer shell,
so we'll be able

to monitor its progress

as it arcs toward the target.

Oh, Commander Clarkson,
this is fantastic!

I can see him right there.
Have you got him?

Yeah.

You bastards!

Oh, just put him out
of his misery, will you?

Fire!

I'm not sure his bug-out
vehicle was quite as strong

as he may have
led you to believe.

Right...

Many months later,

I was ready to unveil
my third attempt...

...an impregnable fortress.

Oh, yeah!

This is bug-out heaven!

I've used as my inspiration

the armoured personnel
carrier from Aliens,

on the basis that if it can
protect Sigourney Weaver

from that metal bitey
thing with teeth,

it can keep me safe
from Jeremy Clarkson
and James May.

Underneath this beast
are the basic elements
of an Alvis Stalwart.

So it was already
armour-plated, amphibious,

massively powerful,

six-wheel drive
and four-wheel steering.

And what I've gone and done
is improve it.

It's got a honeycombed
lattice work

of ceramic-steel
armour plating.

It's three times thicker
than the armour you'll find

on the turret of
an Abrams A1M1 tank.

In testing, I fired a 7.62
round at that hull,

and all it left
was a mark like that one.

This thing is incredible.

Whatever those two
are planning this time,

it won't work.

They won't be able
to damage my soup now.

Drone feed stabilised.

Vehicle spotted in the open.

45 stand by to engage target.

45 stood to engage target.

This shell...
is twice as powerful

as the shell we fired
from the tank.

And it can hit a target
13 miles away.

Loading weapon.

Hot room, gun loaded.
Gun ready.

Fire mission,

target number
Uniform Tango 1805.

Altitude 35.

Direction 4600.

Gun target line 130.
Ready 68.

Command approve.

45. Engage.

Command approve. 45. Fire.

They're bored. They've
realised I'm unhurtable...

...and given up.

Five seconds to impact.

They probably think
it's really funny.

They probably think
I'm out here all...

45. Target destroyed.

Yeah.

Now,

we went through
the wreckage afterwards

and this is all that remains
of Richard Hammond.

He's just dust,
and we know it is Hammond

because we found this
suspiciously white tooth...

...in it. That's...

- That's him.
- That's him.

So, there you are, preppers.

The tragic remains of Richard
Hammond are proof positive

that your hobby is
utterly pointless.

- You spilled him!
- Spilt him on the floor.

Now you've got him
all over your shoes.

I know. Even when he's dust,
he's annoying.

Anyway...

On that terrible disappointment,

it is time to end.

He's pretty much gone now.

Thank you very much
for watching.

See you next time. Goodbye!

-Subs4Free-
MetalHeadGR