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With sincere apologizes to Messieurs Lamborghini, Porsche, Bugatti, and Pagani, a car magazine without a Ferrari gracing its pages could not possibly have the word "Fantasies" emblazoned on its cover. Simply put, there are fantasy cars and then there are Ferraris. In the presence of a Maranello masterpiece, every other marque loses some of its luster. Even Ferrari's hometown is a cross between an automotive Vatican and a flat-plane-crank version of Vegas, with gift shops, shrines, and museums celebrating the prancing horse. Devotees fumble with their cameras every time a red sports car screams down the narrow streets, turning unleaded holy water into the holiest of hydrocarbons.
With sincere apologizes to Messieurs Lamborghini, Porsche, Bugatti, and Pagani, a car magazine without a Ferrari gracing its pages could not possibly have the word "Fantasies" emblazoned on its cover. Simply put, there are fantasy cars and then there are Ferraris. In the presence of a Maranello masterpiece, every other marque loses some of its luster. Even Ferrari's hometown is a cross between an automotive Vatican and a flat-plane-crank version of Vegas, with gift shops, shrines, and museums celebrating the prancing horse. Devotees fumble with their cameras every time a red sports car screams down the narrow streets, turning unleaded holy water into the holiest of hydrocarbons.