Indicating carefully, and in full conformity with the law, I put my foot down – and pow. It was warp drive. You remember that bit in Star Wars, when the Millennium Falcon makes the leap into hyperspace, and the stars are turned into white streaks?
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My car, on the other hand, was silent except for a musical hum, like a chorister tuning up for a madrigal. Every other car on the M40 was guilty – yes, even the Priuses – of contributing directly to the great billowing clouds of CO2 that are rising and quilting the planet in the tea-cosy of doom.
My car was innocent. It was an electric car, made by Tesla in California, and though it is currently just about the only one on British roads, I believe it marks the beginning of a long-overdue revolution.
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They should remember that they are dealing with the human race, which is essentially a fun-loving, consumerist species, and that sometimes the best way to make people green is to make them green with envy.
