Top Gear Cockometer May 2026

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

“That’s impossible!” James cried.

The Stig sat motionless in the driver’s seat of the new electric hyper-GT, its dashboard glowing like a spaceship’s night shift. In the studio, Jeremy Clarkson squinted at a small, new dial positioned just to the left of the speedometer. 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. Jeremy chose a matte-black Aston Martin Vantage with

Then James, silent James, found a long, empty A-road. He glanced at the rearview mirror, smirked—a tiny, forbidden smirk—and planted his foot. The Volvo wheezed from 60 to 78 mph over forty-seven seconds. But the act of trying in a beige box was so profoundly cockish that his meter slowly, inexorably, ticked up to . “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” he muttered. The meter ticked to 4.5 for complaining. The Stig sat motionless in the driver’s seat