Britain’s car industry has received a welcome boost, with BMW investing £250m in their range of cutesy, urban, retro behemoths.
With eyes filled with tears through the sheer nostalgia of it all, BMW’s Dr Hernst Schlumpf unveiled their latest beast, at a military facility in Surrey.
With 78” wheels, roof stripes and a speedometer big enough to be read from space, Gargantu-MINI can plough fields, shell small villages or vaguely remind journalists of a tiny car they first learned to drive in.
“Herr ist beautiful”, declared Schlumpf, from a bunker a mile from the press launch.
“We haff mimicked the original design ruthlessly, apart from some colossalisation und military beefing.”
Schlumpf believes consumers yearn for the simplicity of days gone by, but want that simplicity to be combined with a crushing road presence.
His engineers have worked tirelessly to instill fear in other motorists, and Gargantu-MINI is as scary as a battle tank, or a tractor being driven recklessly by a child.
“Mitt 18 seats, four turrets und eine little beeper for when you are parking, she is as comfortable on the school run as she is invading eine gymkhana”, Schlumpf claimed.
“But if a neighbour turns a nose up, let you be given herr both barrels: Gargantu-MINI ist carbon neutral, mitt einen optional seed-drill und rotary thrasher.”
Gargantu-MINI is selling well, with a long waiting list of footballers, farmers and knob-heads looking to boost their military might.
Schlumpf was ecstatic with the reception his 27-litre diesel-powered monstrosity received, and even happier that the car looked to scale, if you stood 1.6 kilometres away.
Clutching his binoculars, Schlumpf admitted his marketing department had been correct.
“Ist true. From here, you really can see the punters a mile off.”