Countach 25th Anniversary Edition on 2040-cars

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Mansory unveils 1,600-hp Carbonado GT under a carbon fiber panda body

European tuners show up at the Geneva Motor Show in spades to display their very expensive wares in hopes of finding a handful of buyers. The only way to set your company apart is to make cars that are increasingly extreme. Mansory is no different, and to keep up with competitors it has brought the 1,600-horsepower Carbonado GT to Switzerland.
The GT starts life as a Lamborghini Aventador LP700-4, but practically every body panel is replaced with new carbon fiber pieces. It doesn't hide it either with the entire center portion of the car finished in clear-coated carbon. The biggest changes include fenders that are 1.6-inches wider at the front and 2.0-inches wider in the rear, and even the wheels have carbon inlays.
To make sure the Carbonado GT has the power to back up its hardcore looks, Mansory has fitted the Aventador's 6.5-liter V12 with two turbochargers to produce the aforementioned 1,600 hp and torque electronically limited to 855 pound-feet. The powertrain is upgraded to take the boost with pistons, connecting rods, rod bearings, crankshaft and cylinder head being replaced with high-performance units. Mansory claims the highly modified engine gets the GT to 62 miles per hour in 2.1 seconds and to a top speed of 230 mph.

A few of the coolest police cars on the planet

Police cars are faster, more athletic and even better looking than they have been in generations.
Nobody likes getting a ticket. It's expensive, embarrassing and annoying. And when the officer ambles back to an ancient Ford Crown Victoria, more than a few of enthusiasts have had the tantalizing thought: I could have outrun him.

2015 Lamborghini Aventador LP 700-4 Roadster Review

"Lamborghini Murcielago." That's what I would tell anyone who asked what my favorite car was. Yes, there were easier cars to drive than the wailing wraith from Sant'Agata Bolgnese, and that was partly why I liked it so. It was impossible to see out the back – reversing was easiest done with the door open, sitting on the sill. My head banged the door frame when I checked traffic on the left. The seat made my butt hurt. The cabin ergonomics were based on a design language that humans haven't yet translated. It boiled over in stop-and-go traffic. It was big. Yet it drove like nothing else, with the instant zig-zag reflexes of a mako designed in The Matrix. The Murcielago's thrills weren't laid out on the ground, you had to dig for them with your bare hands. And that's what made it outstanding. When I first drove the Aventador at its launch in Rome, I spent the day blasting around the circuit at Vallelunga. It was so easy to drive – "too easy by half," as Jeremy Clarkson would later say of it – viciously quick, unholy fun, and very good. But it was a little too easy to drive. Which is why the Murcielago remained my favorite car, ever. Until two weeks ago. The Aventador came when the rough-diamond Gallardo was Lamborghini's in-house reference for ease-of-use. But now we have the fire-and-forget Huracan. Having driven one after the other, and on the context of LA streets instead of the smooth and open landscape of Vallelunga or Laguna Seca, I now see the Aventador for what it truly is: the representation of the bull that's on the Lamborghini badge – head-down, horns-out anger. Like the Murcielago, the Aventador is big. It's more than ten inches longer than a Chevrolet Corvette, five inches wider than a Dodge Charger SRT Hellcat, and 3.5 inches wider than a Dodge Viper. It is also low, an inch lower than the already ground-floor Huracan. I won't pretend to be rational about it: the Aventador says everything I want a car to say. It's the certain, antidotal statement to brief and befuddled everyday lives. The cabin is a cockpit in every sense: close-fitted, button-filled, lit up. I'm five-foot-eleven, and I wear it like a tailored suit. I gave a ride to a guy who's six-foot-three and perhaps 260 pounds, so it can fit much larger frames but I still don't know how he got in or out through that scissor-door opening. The trunk in the Murcielago was big enough to hold a single dream.