It’s not so much that the Old Cars of the Sixth Borough can talk, it’s more like psychic grumbling. They’re always like, “I can’t believe this shit… Oh you wanna drive somewhere? Fine! It’d be nice if I you asked me what I wanna do…” It’s all under the breath style. “Sackin’ Frackin'” as they used to say in the cartoons. “Festival Heifer,” like the dad says in A Christmas Story. That’s Stanley down there, bt-dubs.
Looks like a brochure marketed towards the yuppies of the 80s that made euro-cars popular stateside.