It's the doors. You know why they've been fitted; so that we're reminded of the old 300 Gullwing. That's fine. But you also know that at some point, you are going to have to get out of the damn thing, when people are looking. And they're going to think you're a cock.
This is a little-known fact among petrolheads. You may think that people will be impressed by your purple metal flake paint job or your enormous rear spoiler or your massive tailpipes. But they aren't. They see a passion for cars like we see a passion for golf. They think it's ridiculous. And those doors? They're the full Rupert Bear Pringle number. The full look-at-me nonsense that no one likes. Put simply - if you have a car with doors that open upwards, you will get less sex.
Also, you will not get them closed. If you are a midget, by which I mean you are less than 6'2", then you will not be able to reach the handle when you are in the driver's seat. So either you will be forced to pay extra for a drop-down strap - you tick the option box marked "I am a short arse" - or you will have to ask a passer-by to shut it for you. They will not be impressed by this. Or you.
I should explain at this point that I'm being hyper-critical from the off on this road test report because I am smitten by the SLS. I love it more than I love my own limbs. And I urgently need to talk myself out of buying one.
So let's get back to the faults. The ride. I thought the set up in my CLK Black was stiff. I thought it wouldn't be possible to make a car any more rigid. But AMG has managed it. And how. The road from Burford to Chipping Norton is extremely smooth. I know this because I have driven on it many times. But in the SLS, it felt about as flat as Scotland.
There's a harshness to the whole car in fact. It's as though the rubber bushes that are used in normal cars to isolate the driver from the workings of the engine and the suspension have been removed. Certainly, we know that the propshaft is made from carbon fibre and as a result weighs just 4kg. We also know that the engine is made from lightweight materials too. It's all very impressive but when it comes to isolating you from the world, cotton is not as good as fur. Heavy is better.
The SLS looks like an elegant grand tourer. It is fitted with much leather and many luggzuries. But to drive, it feels like a foundry.
Since I quite like this, I shall move on to the size. It's nearly two metres wide. This means that it will be defeated by many council width-restrictors. And the wideness means that your passenger is very far away from where you are. So you need megaphones to talk.
Especially if you are going fast. All AMG cars are noisy when you accelerate - and it's not a trick either involving valves. They're that way from the get-go. The SLS though... is more noisy than anything that has gone before, for more of the time. On a steady cruise, it settles down and hums, but if you even think about pressing the accelerator, the barking and the bellowing is back, with a vengeance.
In many ways, it feels like a TVR - and like a TVR, I think that the ownership experience would be annoying and difficult and awkward and tiring. Although perhaps with a bit less fire and smoke. I'm not sure you'd grow to love the looks either. From some angles, in some colours, it is sensational. As good to behold as anything on the road. But from the back, it looks a bit weedy. So there we are. I really mustn't have one. It would be stupid. And I mustn't wait for the convertible either, because although it will have proper doors, it will cost a billion pounds.
The hard-top is already expensive. The base car is £157,000 but the car I drove was fitted with a reversing camera, sports seats, special wheels, a Bang and Olufsen sound system, ceramic brakes, special paint and nice leather. It even had - at an extra cost of £3,355 - a carbon-fibre engine cover.
Why would you want that? People already hate you because of the doors. So if you then get the bonnet up and invite them to inspect your three-and-a-half grand engine cover, it's likely they will take out their penis and wee on you. I know I would.
The upshot of all this is that the car I tested would cost £194,000. This means it's more expensive than an Aston Martin DBS or a Ferrari California. £194,000 is absolutely idiotic. And yet...
One Sunday night, I dropped my daughter off at school - well, near it actually so that her friends didn't have to see those doors - and came home on my own. The weather was beautiful. The roads were empty. And the SLS was utterly magical.
Everything's a lot further back than you'd expect. The engine, for instance, is mounted way behind the front axle and you sit right over the back wheels, which probably explains why it feels so firm. It also means that the driving experience is akin to being in Ben Hur's chariot.
İt feels like it's pivoting around where the horse's arse would be if it were a chariot. Miles in front of where you are, in other words. It's an amazing feeling and I liked it very much.
I also liked the steering. It's Porsche GT3 direct. You turn the wheel a tad, scarcely believing such a small movement could cause such a huge bonnet to change direction, but it does, immediately and with almost no roll.
The seven-speed gearbox was brilliant too. It uses the exact same double-clutch system that Ferrari uses on the California. And I know a little bit about that. Sadly.
When Top Gear was in Romania recently, Hammond and I found ourselves neck-and-neck on the motorway. He was in a California. I was in a DBS, and, at a given signal, we both floored it. There was absolutely no difference between the cars at all. They accelerated at precisely the same rate - until it was time for a gearchange.
I tried to be quick. But in the Aston, I had to press the clutch pedal down, move a lever and let the clutch pedal back up again. Hammond just pulled a paddle and, bang. The next gear was engaged, in a period of time even an astro physicist would call ‘none'. It was instant and, as a result, with each change, he pulled out a 20-metre lead.
The SLS is very fast. Zero to 60 is dealt with in 3.8 seconds. Flat-out, you'll be doing 195. And on a real road? Well, providing the real road in question is wide enough, I can think of absolutely nothing which could keep up. Not with that 'box. Not with that steering. And certainly not with that 563bhp, 480 torques, superlight 6.2-litre V8.
This is the opposite of a grand tourer. It's an out-and-out racer. Edgy. Nervous. Noisy. You need to be careful with the throttle coming out of the corners because despite the 295/30s on the back, and the traction control system, it will misbehave. And with that engine on full chat, no one can hear you scream
Time and again I would crest a brow, see the road ahead was empty and clear and straight, and I'd floor the throttle and whoop. It's not like I'm unused to fast cars. But this? I don't know. It somehow feels faster than anything I've ever driven before. More exciting too. You need the aircon on full or you'd drown in your own armpit juices.
So here we are. Near the end. Looking for a verdict. And it's tough. The excellent trade magazine, Autocar, said after driving the SLS that while it impressed them - they called it "massively fast" - it left them emotionally cold.
That's odd because for me, it's sort of the other way around. The SLS is riddled with issues. The ride. The size. The price. The looks. And of course, the doors. It's a mentalist. It's bonkers. But I find it more characterful and more likeable than even an Aston Martin DBS. I love it more than I love my dog.
It makes no sense. And almost because of that, it makes more sense than anything I've ever driven.
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