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Mercedes-Benz knows this about their S-Class customers: if you can afford one S-Class, you can afford many S-Classes. So the question with the newly redesigned S65 AMG Coupe isn’t so much whether you (S-Class consumer) will drive one, but more, do you currently have space in the garage alongside the Ferrari, the Porsche, the G-Wagen, the Jag, the Rover, the Maybach, and the pair of jet skis? Or, rather, how quickly can you expand the garage to fit your next shipment from Affalterbach?
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The S65 AMG is a sports car for the rich, powerful and amply pampered. And while the whole phraseology of Mercedes-Benz ad-speak is so repeated and ingrained and dully vague that it only sub-cortically registers when we hear it — “The Best or Nothing” — the verbiage also, conveniently, fits the S65 AMG in a way that few other phrases do (MB also tries, in press copy, “Unique exclusivity and performance”, but the phrase doesn’t roll off the tongue in quite the same way). This car is truly the best that Mercedes-Benz will offer, and if it wasn’t they’d scrap the whole thing and start over again.
Scrap any vestiges of consciousness in the arena of equitable dispersant of wealth, and see the quarter-million dollar price tag as merely a superfluous detail in the process of acquiring a stealth bomber in the form of a two-door.
To design the ultimate machine, Mercedes-Benz dismisses any idea of monetary restraint, and so I encourage you, too, to scrap any vestiges of consciousness in the arena of equitable dispersant of wealth, and see the quarter-million dollar price tag as merely a superfluous detail in the process of acquiring a stealth bomber in the form of a two-door. Let us not be weighed down by dull talk of currency.
With price and compromise left sucking down super-premium fuel exhaust, we’re left with the open road and 621 horsepower to play with. The exterior of the S65 is chiseled and resembles an angry mouth. For as long and wide as the body is, the car looks sleek and sexy, and the 16-spoke, 20-inch light-alloy wheels help to complete the leonine prowess of the profile. Driving the S65 on PCH in Los Angeles — through Santa Monica, into Pacific Palisades, on into Malibu (all potential future homes for this beast) — is an exercise in restraint. You creep, tap the pedal, tap the brakes, come to a complete stop. The Eco start/stop turns the engine off. You sit in silence. Then, you let off the brake, all 12 cylinders explode again, and you move forward.