We in RTC have discovered, and rather belatedly so, that the following piece was written by a so-called “guest columnist” named J. Swift. We deeply resent this and have sent this person a Freeloader Bill for $5,000,000. How dare anyone use the RTC Blog without Issue Authority directly from COB RTC!
Like a pack of Scientology regges, Range Rover repeatedly keeps contacting me by e-mail:
Please provide feedback on your Range Rover Sport
Dear J. SWIFT
Land Rover is passionate about providing extraordinary vehicles that are the finest expression of luxury, technology and capability. Land Rover is also committed to producing vehicles which meet the very highest standards of quality & customer satisfaction.
To ensure that our engineers deliver on this and meet the expectations of Land Rover owners, we invite you to participate in our online quality survey regarding your Range Rover Sport. Your feedback will be received by our engineers directly.
The problem is that I do not own a Range Rover and never have.
Nevertheless, Range Rover is convinced that I own a Range Rover and am somehow obligated to complete their survey.
My thinking is that someone at Range Rover needs a stat. I have therefore relented to their demands and have written up my Range Rover success story and e-mailed it to them:
Earlier this year my Range Rover allowed me to effect a dramatic off-road escape from robbers in Mexico.
I drove over 100 miles through some of the worst terrain possible while being hotly pursued by lesser off-road vehicles — all of which broke down over the course of what turned into an extended running gun battle between myself and the desperadoes.
Although my Range Rover became riddled with bullets fired from the guns of savage criminals, this splendid vehicle remained intact and delivered incredible performance, certainly more than I had ever expected to use.
As the last robbers fell to my gunshots, I crossed a small-gauge mining railroad bridge to safety.
When I at last arrived at my villa, I counted 22 bullet holes. Nothing serious was hit. Sure, the window glass and upholstery had been shot apart but that is to be expected in a raging gun battle of this singular and epic intensity. Thankfully, I had a good 50+ clips preloaded and placed in a crate on the exquisite leather front passenger seat or I would surely have been killed by the bandits. I was impressed with the way in which the Range Rover’s power steering allowed me to steer over rugged terrain with one hand while shooting with my other hand.
I estimate that I fired at least 600 rounds and quite probably killed several of the criminals. I know for certain that I killed the thin pale bandit named Onofredo.
After sorting things out at my rancho, I shipped the vehicle back to the US and had it fully inspected and repaired. As it eventuated there were several mechanical parts that had taken fire and needed to be replaced but this was to be expected and did not come as a surprise to me.
Overall, I am very impressed with my Range Rover and would recommend it to my friends.
You do own a Range Rover. You just don’t know it yet.
Why don’t you just postulate a Range Rover?
Hats off and salud! Read this aloud to my wife, but had to stop half a dozen times to reload, as I was laughing so hard my words were unintelligible.
You are a master wordsmith my friend.
I am glad that you are filling Lrons literary shoes. Impossible tales of daring do with bandits, impossible weather conditions and finely crafted leather make my day.
However, as any real Range Rover owner knows, the real allure of the Rovers is their ability to be repaired with duct tape and twisted coat hangers and captured rain water.
Surly you can add some mechanical assistance rendered by ole doc manny, the sagebrush guru of 4 wheel drive transmissions.
Yeah well my goddamn Jeep piece of shit kept breaking down out there at the Spahn Ranch. Didn’t have the money for a Range Rover. That’s why I had my dune buggy attack plan. Was way ahead of my time on that one.
Its amazing how some postulates stick!
At least now we know how the RTC got away with giving David Miscavige a Range Rover without it looking like inurement. I suggest J Swift contact David Miscavige and request the vehicle registered in your name
Someone has been posing as LRH, squirreling the tech with transcription errors (so he can sell new, revised versions), spending millions on empty buildings and slapping people. He is 5’1″, has brown hair and answers to “Chairman of the Board”. Let me know if you see any sign of him.
LRwho? Chairman Miscaviage turned the unreadable psychotic ramblings of an insane old man into a workable technology that has captured the hearts and minds of hundreds of millions.
If not for the Chairman, there would be no Scientology, only squirrels and nuts.
Snicker and, indeed, snort!
Onofredo had made the fateful mistake of driving his old Ford Bronco that day. His Bronco was in bad need of a tune up and new tires. As he pulled up next to me in the treacherous barranca, that Dantean Malebolge near the Alcapancingo prison, he took aim. However, I was faster and unloaded a full clip into that SP and his mouthful of gold teeth with my FN Scar. With a muzzle velocity of 2,630 ft/s (800 m/s) the 20 7.62 NATO rounds from my box clip caused Onofredo’s head to explode like a pinata and splattered the cheap vinyl interior of his Bronco with a mess of engrams and gray matter.
As I pressed down hard on the gas pedal of my 4WD all terrain Range Rover and accelerated up the steep embankment, Onofredo’s Bronco suddenly exploded in a huge ball of flame as the Russian РПГ-7 handheld rocket launchers he had in the backseat took a direct hit from one of my 7.62’s that were zinging around the inside his Bronco like popcorn popping in a microwave bag.
This gunfight was turning into a fullblown rodeo.
I turned up the Bose 600W stereo in my Range Rover to full volume as Babylon Sisters, one of my favorite Steely Dan songs began. I quickly dropped the empty clip from my FN Scar and jammed in a fresh magazine. I could see in my rear view mirrors that my old nemesis Dr. Kool de Menthol and his one-eyed hitman Juan Diego Santorre were speeding up quickly in their Dodge Durango whose radiator was boiling over under the brutal heat of the merciless noonday sun. Steam poured from under the the battered and wobbly sheet metal hood of the Durango as its engine and bad transmission strained to gain on my 510 horsepower supercharged Range Rover sport. Even with this brutal terrain, the cupholders on my Range Rover held perfectly firm my two chilled bottles of Kona Nigari water.
The decades old war between Dr. Kool de Menthol and me was going to end right now in this barranca and it was going to be ugly for he and his hitman! Soon enough I would be back in Los Angeles driving west on Sunset to the sea…