Cockometer [extra Quality] | Top Gear

The first hour was telling. Jeremy’s Cockometer flickered between 2 and 3 as he cruised. Then he spotted a tunnel. “Oh, go on,” he whispered, dropping two gears. The Vantage roared like a lion with a hangover. The dial snapped to . A robotic female voice announced: “Cock maneuver detected. Unnecessary tunnel roar. Penalty sustained.”

Jeremy chose a matte-black Aston Martin Vantage with a titanium exhaust. “I shall be a perfect gentleman,” he lied. top gear cockometer

Richard laughed so hard he swerved. The Porsche’s sensor registered the swerve as “hotdogging” and dinged him to . “I wasn’t even doing anything!” he squealed. The first hour was telling

The challenge was simple: three cars, one road trip from London to the Scottish Highlands, and a hard-wired Cockometer in each. The rules: drive normally. The car’s onboard AI, linked to throttle position, lane changes, rev-matching aggression, and the frequency of unnecessary downshifts, would assign a real-time “Cock Rating.” The higher the score, the bigger the cock. “Oh, go on,” he whispered, dropping two gears

“That’s impossible!” James cried.

Jeremy clapped him on the back. “You see, May? The quiet ones. They’re the biggest cocks of all.”

The Volvo, parked silently between a Land Rover and a skip, displayed a final reading of .