Three, two, one, go!
Here we go.
Testing, testing has begun.
I'm now unleashing the 134 horsepower Vauxhall Vectra engine.
Sadly, though, Leisure Stig's driving was so slow
that soon he was causing a bit of a traffic jam.
Why have they given me such a massive caravan? This is hopeless.
Well, it could be worse.
I can feel the downforce from my "a ballast" and it's good.
I've gone wrong. It's hopeless. I've crashed into myself!
I mustn't be overtaken or I'm out.
Using the power of the mighty Frontera, I caught up with Hammond
and tried to take him on the inside,
which meant going onto the surface designed to test suspension.
Oh, this bit's even worse!
Total chaos and I've lost all the ground I made up there!
Because Leisure Stig was so slow, even James was getting impatient.
Juddering, buffeting. Come on, Pinin!
And violent.
Oh, yes!
He's losing the wheel.
Massive error by the Stig. Smoke is pouring off.
Right, this time, Hammond, you're going down!
Oh, no!
Then Hammond made an error.
I'm on the rough stuff.
Oh, this is impossibly...
Oh, yeah. I'm sorry, Hammond. We have overtaken you. You are out.
I think I've lost a wheel now. A lot of sparks.
It's... it's barely controllable, if I'm honest.
Oh, now I can see the problem here.
Meanwhile, my race was going well.
Yes, I've just done James May.
He's somehow ended up on the infield.
That was a catastrophic mistake.
But sadly, I overcooked it trying to take Leisure Stig.
Lost my brakes completely!
With 20 laps completed, Leisure Stig had given up.
Hammond still thought he was in the contest...
and I had a problem.
Steam coming from the front of the Frontera.
Things are not good in the Vauxhall.
Yes, here we go, I can have him. Come on!
Uh-oh!
It's tight. It's tight at the back.
Manoeuvre attempt by Jeremy Clarkson.
He's up the bank.
I think we might have lost sight of the rules of this race slightly.
The producers had come to the same conclusion.
So, we were told to abandon the oval test track...
and report to the drag strip,
where we would see which car could get from nought to 60
and then back to nought again in the shortest possible distance.
-It's a good test, this. -Yeah.
It is, 'cause it measures acceleration and braking all in one go.
Absolutely.
Leisure Stig went first to lay down a benchmark
and, as he was mid-run, Jeremy noticed something.
If you don't stop in time...
Yeah, your day suddenly gets a lot worse.
-Wetter. -Colder.
Luckily for Leisure Stig, the Kia Sportage stopped well short of the pond.
And once this point had been marked,
Hammond took his position on the start line.
I think he's had a bit of a hair transplant.
Just look at his fringe.
Seriously, look at his fringe when he gets out.
You don't have your fringe transplanted, do you?
Well, remember Rooney, when he had that forestation job done?
You have a look.
Okay, there's no putting this off. Here we go.
Come on, everything you've got, Jeepie, I need you to get to 60 quick.
Forty.
Oh, my God. I'm coming up to the Stig's...
-Oh, my God. -On the brakes, that's all I've got.
That's all I've got.
Oh, I can't brake any harder than that.
Did a bit of excrement come out?
I had to use all of the brakes, I mean...
And you hadn't actually started braking before you got to the Stig's stop time?
No.
That was a bit of a worry,
as Hammond's Jeep was much faster than my wounded Vauxhall.
Here we go!
Yes! It's a flying start from Luton's finest!
Five thousand RPM!
Five-and-a-half.
Looking good.
There's the Stig's marker.
And there's 60.
Wow!
Holy mother of God, that was close! Oh, no.
Do not pretend you've got clean pants, because I know you haven't.
Many poos shot out of my ani.
I didn't enjoy my near-death experience, but in truth, James enjoyed it even less.
My car is faster than your car and its brakes are not bad.
And I very nearly went into the muddy pool of effluent.
Didn't you?
-My car's very light. -Yeah.
Still clutching at straws, I began my run.
Here we go.
It is a test of acceleration and braking and he has neither of those things.
No, he doesn't.
Oh, come on.
Still accelerating.
Thirty...
Thirty-five.
Still accelerating.
Forty-five.
Well, he can't get to 60, can he?
Fifty.
Fifty-two.
Bollocks.
-Oh, it's sinking. -Well, it was...
-He was committed. -Help!
-Yes. -He was determined to reach 60.
But he didn't, did he?
Ah, God, it's chuffing freezing!
You went a bit far.
Can we just get a flag to mark his position?
Don't just stand there, you idiots! It's filling up!
James, I've looked at the situation and there's nothing we can do.