There is something hugely, intensely satisfying about coming up behind a police motorbike at 160 mph and forcing it out of the way with a sheer wall of noise. Knowing I wouldn't spend the next few days sharing intimate moments with a serial killer named Bubba made it all the sweeter. Thank the heavens for the unrestricted autobahn, my German passenger reassuring me that it was perfectly legal (even suggesting a cheeky left-hand indicator) and a super saloon like the Carlsson CK55, an even more muscular version of the preposterously powerful CLS 55 AMG.
Stefan Mueller, my guide for the day, excitedly said: "It sounds like a T-Rex!" It's hard to think of a better analogy. The noise emanating from under the hood is saturated in prehistoric menace and this car has all the same brute force. It's a little more high-tech than the scaly dinosaur, of course, but it has about the same level of finesse. With a 470 bhp engine to start with, Carlsson was destined to produce a monster and the engine is basically the same powerplant as in the 564 bhp E55 AMG conversion I was lucky enough to track test on my last visit to the German powerhouse. Rolf Hartge and his devoted followers have rounded the power down to 560 bhp, achieved with an increased compression ratio, reprogrammed ECU and, crucially, a VMax delimiter. This car is just stretching its legs at the old car's artificially induced 155 mph top end and will now scorch all the way to 200 mph without trouble, displacing unsuspecting policemen at every opportunity.
As you'd expect from a Mercedes-Benz it does so in armchair comfort, too, slinging passengers along at unreasonable speeds in complete luxury, but the burbling mechanized roar erupting from the four stainless steel exhaust pipes rules out the word refined. Refinery yes, refined no. The engine note suggests it doesn't just want to pass the cars in front, it wants to punt them straight off the road. It's a bullying brute of a motor that will take this 4,200-pound beast to 60 mph in 4.5 seconds, provided the electronics are on. Tramp the gas from a standstill and the car will barely move. It'll simply envelop everything nearby, including choking photographers, in a big cloud of white tire smoke. Mercedes electronics might be impossible to totally disarm, but they can be overpowered. It will do the same thing if you let loose anywhere under 100 mph and the pure excess of power verges on the ridiculous. Any car with 597 lb-ft of torque should come with a health warning, especially in combination with AMG's screw-type supercharger that Carlsson's technicians think a little savage. They have developed a Wankel-licensed number engineered to smooth out the savage spike in power.
This car picks up speed like blue whales pick up plankton, but the only true indication of speed is the deep rumble escalating to frightening levels, like thunder from an approaching storm. This, and Mueller's leg starting to tense against the inside of the door as we headed toward sharper bends, effectively announced sensible braking points.
While it's lightning fast, then, it remains first and foremost a Mercedes in that it's a heavy car and it must be comfortable. Carlsson's C-Tronic lowering system works its magic here, dropping the car's air suspension by 1.2 inches. On cut-up roads, it will sense that Master's rear end is feeling too much of the pavement and will obediently lift to a comfort setting. Carlsson has done a good job of trimming the fat, but this isn't a slinky sports car. It's a big autobahn-crushing status symbol with more torque than a battleship propeller. It doesn't need to be fast through bends, because it'll take most competitors in the straights.
As for the cosmetics, our car came decked out with an interior that makes P Diddy's wardrobe look a little drab, but it looks better than it sounds. Quilted leather and Alcantara seats, a Carlsson sport steering wheel and a high gloss varnish liberally spread around the standard trim actually looks cool in the flesh, although I admit its description sounds only marginally more elegant than a rhino on ice skates. The speedo is by far the sexiest thing in the cabin, though, as it now reads 360 kph (225 mph).
Outside, things are a little more muted. Rolf Hartge loves insanely fast cars and opulent interiors, but he clearly doesn't approve of big wings and other headache-inducing cosmetics on the outside. A subtle rear wing adjustment and a front lip spoiler that should serve a purpose and prevent front-end lift at speed are the only real treatments on offer, other than the mighty 20-inch Ultra Light forged wheels that turn into mirrors at speed, and that medallion of a logo on the front end. Wheels are a law unto themselves, and a big tuner like Carlsson would need its collective heads examined if they didn't seek to exploit the market for tarted-up alloys that goes well beyond customers of the latest AMG.