We all know that when it comes to hot hatches,
the French are the kings.
[in English] But which one is the best?
Well, that's what we're here to find out, using the crucible of motorsport.
We will be up against
three people from the office.
Our script editor, because he wrote this bit,
our production assistant, because she's French,
and finally, Abbie, our in-house racing driver.
[engines revving]
We are away.
This is tight.
Now I'm eating proper French dust.
[speaking French] Come on, come on. Oh, deary me. [bleeping]
[James] Marguerite, a French intern, in the 206 GTi.
[engines revving]
Right, just to be absolutely clear, all the cars here are excellent
because they're all French hot hatchbacks.
But mine is the best.
It's got no ABS, it's got no traction control, and I've spun!
[thuds]
[Jeremy] Seven thousand RPM.
Hundred and sixty seven horsepowers unleashed!
Richard Hammond will now be moaning about a lack of horsepower.
Now, I am down on power. I only have 104 brake horsepower.
Porter completely killed me.
That was a very French move from the scriptwriter there.
[speaks French] Out of the way! Out of the way!
Oh, it's her! The French woman.
I ought to point out that Marguerite's never really done this before,
so she is a natural French lunatic.
Although she did make a slight error there and I'll hammer her.
Bonjour, madame!
Whoa!
[Jeremy] As Hammond and May battled with the office staff,
Abbie and I were up front fighting for the lead.
Speed!
You may be a racing driver, but I've got 40 more horsepower than you.
Oh, no. Hang on.
[grunting]
[clattering]
[exclaims]
Ah. Think my dash appears to be coming off,
but I'd say that wasn't necessary.
French cars tend to shed the stuff you can lose.
Bumpers, electric windows, all that sort of stuff.
What you're left with is, actually, an incredibly tough drivetrain, engine.
Whoa. Monsieur Le Porter.
-[clattering] -[exclaiming]
Right, this is my chance.
-Ooh, [bleep]! Not my chance. -[laughing]
Yep, she gave me the finger. She is definitely a French woman.
That's the real deal there.
Oh, she's cocked it up!
[exclaims]
[in French] You son of a female dog! [bleeping]
Go away in a reproductive manner.
But then...
Oh!
I've died.
What's happened here?
Oh, dear.
[laughing]
[Jeremy] As the race entered the final two laps,
James was still being humiliated
by the brilliantly-entertaining French novice.
And I was still fighting Abbie for the win.
AND BEFORE YOU JUMP ON TWITTER,
YES, WE KNOW HE'S BELGIAN.
[Jeremy] Damn it!
[Jeremy laughs]
Yes. The mighty Peugeot is in the lead!
Come on! Come on! Come on! Come on! Come on! Come on!
No!
[Jeremy groans]