1967 Dodge Coronet R/t 7.2l on 2040-cars

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Question of the Day: Most heinous act of badge engineering?

Badge engineering, in which one company slaps its emblems on another company's product and sells it, has a long history in the automotive industry. When Sears wanted to sell cars, a deal was made with Kaiser-Frazer and the Sears Allstate was born. Iranians wanted new cars in the 1960s, and the Rootes Group was happy to offer Hillman Hunters for sale as Iran Khodro Paykans. Sometimes, though, certain badge-engineered vehicles made sense only in the 26th hour of negotiations between companies. The Suzuki Equator, say, which was a puzzling rebadge job of the Nissan Frontier. How did that happen? My personal favorite what-the-heck-were-they-thinking example of badge engineering is the 1971-1973 Plymouth Cricket. Chrysler Europe, through its ownership of the Rootes Group, was able to ship over Hillman Avanger subcompacts for sale in the US market. This would have made sense... if Chrysler hadn't already been selling rebadged Mitsubishi Colt Galants (as Dodge Colts) and Simca 1100s as (Simca 1204s) in its American showrooms. Few bought the Cricket, despite its cheery ad campaign. So, what's the badge-engineered car you find most confounding? Chrysler Dodge Automakers Mitsubishi Nissan Suzuki Automotive History question of the day badge engineering question

Highway To Hellcat: Dallas to Vegas with 2,000 HP

Fort Davis, TX. Early November. Late Sunday afternoon. The 1,200 residents of this small town are using their day of rest to quietly enjoy the breeze rolling off the hills. There's an older couple walking down the street, holding hands. A young lady working at a general store, where milkshakes and antacids are purchased at the same counter. It's a peaceful, quaint scene, right down to the tumbleweed rolling across the street and the rickety wooden porches outside the old storefronts. I hit the throttle of the 2015 Dodge Charger SRT Hellcat while turning left onto the road leading toward the town square, sending the sedan's rear end swinging to the right with a few puffs of rubbery smoke. I coast down to the 25-mile-per-hour speed limit and spot the line of Challengers, Chargers, and Vipers in my rear-view mirror, the drivers all mimicking my quick jolt of enthusiasm before pulling up the reigns on their V8s and V10s and idling into Fort Davis. Our posse would roll some 5,000 horsepower of pure American muscle into that small Texas town that day. It was only the first stop on an epic journey that would take us from Dallas to Las Vegas, on a winding route down toward El Paso, up through New Mexico, Arizona, and finally north into Nevada, ending at the ritzy Palazzo casino and hotel on the Vegas strip. It was an opportunity to see parts of America I never knew existed, and a chance to bond with some American cars that until recently, I sort of failed to understand. And most importantly it was an opportunity to drive really, really hard. Charging Through Texas Unless you've driven across it, it's hard to understand the massive space that is Texas. In places, scanning 360 degrees of horizon reveals absolutely nothing. Nothing. On its own, driving from Dallas to El Paso covers some 630 miles. Veer south to Fort Davis and you'll add another 70 onto that, not including the 75-mile Davis Mountain Scenic Loop where I found bliss behind the wheel of this insanely powerful sedan. I always expected to like the Charger Hellcat – comfortable seating for four (five in a pinch), equipped with the latest tech, wrapped in a stylish yet muscular body, like a quarterback in a tux. And it moves. The supercharged 6.2-liter Hellcat V8 pumps out 707 horsepower and 650 pound-feet of torque, which makes for one quick sedan, especially considering its heft.

Queens man knows how to party, disrupts Mets game with van

A New Yorker and all-around true American hero took his weekend festivities a little too far and landed himself in front of a judge last week. According to NBC New York, Nelson Hidalgo drove his unassuming Sprinter to Citi Field on Saturday, June 18, around 10:45 p.m. While the Mets were getting thrashed by the Braves, Hidalgo pulled up to the intersection of 127th street and 35th avenue. Hiding within the van's cargo area were 80 speakers driven by powerful amps, around $20,000 worth of car audio. Hidalgo opened the Sprinter's rear doors, deployed his amazing speaker system, cracked a cold Coors Light, and unleashed hell. Noise complaints immediately started flooding in to the police, including one from the Mets' bullpen. Soon, Hidalgo amassed a sizable crowd who had come to rock out and marvel at the lunacy of the Sprinter's sound system. The NYPD showed up eventually and, undaunted by noise and the crowd, clapped the irons on poor Nelson. The Sprinter was impounded and Hildago was charged with second-degree criminal nuisance, general noise prohibition, disorderly conduct, and obstructing the driver's view. "I know it's illegal, but it's the weekend," he explained to the cops as they hauled him away. Once they had him in custody, the NYPD realized that Hidalgo was the person they had been looking for in connection with absurdly loud music coming from various city junkyards in the dead of night. Hidalgo, who has no prior record, spent the night in the slammer but was released the next morning with no bail on the promise that he return for his court date on August 1. Related Video: