... you really had to ask?
The four-and-a-half litre Bentley.
The king of all motor cars, the knight of all the road, the machine for which all others reverently stand aside.
When a fellow is young, he seeks the fastest of dalliances, and his head is easily turned by the shallowest of appearance. But as maturity develops, he finds he needs something a little more lasting, more substantial. A companion that will see him through all that life can cast at him.
And what better? The bright headlights, to guide me on my way, the soft leather of the seats within the hand crafted structure of the car, the powerful workmanlike engine which will take me swiftly to wherever I should wish to go, and what else?
The winged "B", atop the gleaming radiator like a tiara, announcing that I am aboard the ONLY way to travel.
I will concede that there are other makes of car, but they are as nothing compared to the vintage Bentley, whose reputation stands above all, unsullied, indomitable, unrivalled and shall be for as long as there is petrol, and for evermore.
TimD
(exhibiting absolutely no bias whatsoever...)