It was time.
Mrs Satan had protected Porsche for over thirty five years now. Along side being a Guardian Devil, she raised two twin boys, the future leaders of hell and had taken relentless loving care of its current supreme leader. The immediate and extended family from hell were strictly under manners to stay out of Porsche’s way, and they did just that. Mrs Satan was not to be messed with. The 911 was her personal project, and thus far she had cleared the pathway of luck and fate from any harmful debris from hell and made way for five successful generations of 911 to arrive. The fifth incarnation being the ultimate showcase of the partnership between Porsche and Mrs Satan; known as the 993.
It had not been easy but strong woman that she was, she had done it. Her reason? She wanted her ultimate sports car one day. And that day was here.
If you are wondering who the hell Mrs Satan is please have a little read from the beginning to catch up with my ‘Porsche 911 – The Devil’s Supercar‘ fantasy tale.
University had tolerated and survived her devil boys. They both opted for degrees in Evil and Sin, and both had managed to find their own Mrs-Satan-junior-to-be in the process. And thus after graduation the twins collected their things, gave their mother a hug and each went on to set up their own fire pit with their new love. The door to No. 1 Hell was slammed firmly shut behind them.
Mrs Satan got busy in the kitchen. Hours later the familiar rumble of the 928 GTS parking up reached her ears. Great timing she thought, she had just that second finished wiping the worktop clean. One strong sweep with a wet cloth. The last, satisfying, end of an era sweep.
‘Right my dear, in the fridge is a week’s worth of food, you know how to use the fire pit to cook and I got a few of those special beers in that you like, just take it easy.’
Mr Satan gently placed his 928 keys on the kitchen worktop. His body movement slowed right down. ‘What has…‘
‘I am going to Stuttgart. My flight leaves tonight. I will be back next week.’ The short, sharp, epic answer that stopped Mr Satan mid question.
Mrs Satan was free. She was ready for her retirement present from Porsche. Mrs Satan was heading to none other than the Porsche factory itself. To tell them exactly what she wanted and who she wanted to be behind the wheel. But Porsche was nervous. Their number one ally was on her way. The pressure was on. They were in fact scared, because there was a problem. A problem that they had only just recognised, despite having over thirty five years to spot it and thus do something about it earlier. But they hadn’t. With the top engineers from Porsche gathered round the board room table, Mrs Satan smiled, sitting proudly at the head of it.
‘Gentlemen, you have done marvellous things with the 911, I cannot believe where the years have gone. And I am so excited to be here, I know exactly what I want! I was thinking, my 993 should be convertible for sure, with an automatic gearbox, and as for colour, well, I saw this nail varnish the other day…’ Mrs Satan was reaching into her bag, digging around inside it to find the item in question.
‘Mrs Satan, we have a problem‘ stated Porsche’s bravest bod.
Was all hell about to freeze over or break loose? Mrs Satan’s piercing devil eyes became sad. There was no sign of anger at all. Simply sadness. Porsche’s bravest bod relaxed, and then found strength to try and make those eyes smile again. He knew he had to.
The stronger man inside him woke up and he began to speak.
‘You see, with a Porsche, each individual unit really is made for you, it will be especially for you Mrs Satan. You can have anything you like on your order sheet, and we will make sure that the right part at the right time will be fitted to build your exact specification 911. But there is one thing which renders the current 911 model useless for you, because you live in hell. And hell is very hot. The air cooled engine of the 993 would just not survive. But we know from your husband’s 928 GTS that a water cooled engine will work just fine. He is still enjoying that isn’t he?’
Mrs Satan nodded. Her eyes still sad.
‘Then we can design and build a water cooled engine for your 911, but we will also have to modify the bodyshell to incorporate the new running gear, so your car will actually be a new generation of 911. We will have it ready in a matter of weeks, you will have the very first one. We will even deliver right to your door.‘ His nervous slip of the tongue echoed in the boardroom. The word ‘weeks’ had slipped out in place of ‘years’. Too late though.
Mrs Satan’s piercing devil eyes were back to normal again. ‘No. 1 Hell. See you there. Oh and if you could bring a mirror switch with you for the 928 GTS that would be great, he broke his the other day in a fit of rage.‘ She placed the maroon nail varnish down on top of her completed order sheet and off she went. Just a few more weeks and her dream was set to materialise.
Work began. Work, frantically began. A new water cooled flat six. Which required plumbing, radiators and other water cooling related equipment alongside it. It was new territory for Porsche with a 911, they just hoped that their choice of materials and design would go on to provide the same longevity of use that the air cooled units did. Next up lighting. Now there was a head scratching puzzle for Porsche. Hell had a constant hot mist rising from the ground, and they knew from Mr Satan’s 928 that indicators located in the bumpers were just not good enough, they could not be seen. They needed to be higher. Higher than the mist. At headlamp level. Part of the headlamp in fact. And the rest is light history. And what to call this latest, 911-rule breaking 911? The number six. It had to be in there somewhere given who’s car this was.
The 996 was born. Porsche were oh to close to signing, sealing and delivering. To No.1 Hell.
Find out how Mrs Satan got on with her 996, a 911 just for her, in the next episode.
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This article was written and published by Mike Atwal. Mike works for Trade Classics as an in-house journalist and copywriter and has many years’ experience in the classic car sector – for over 8 years he was the General Manager of the Classic Car Club in London and responsible for a fleet of over 100 cars worth multi-million pounds. So there’s not much Mike doesn’t know about makes, models, maintenance and idiosyncrasies of these old cars. Mike’s a true petrol head with a deep passion for the classics and he loves to talk cars all day, so why not write a reply on this article below.
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