Elvis may not have eaten all the pies, but he certainly did his bit to reduce North America's fried peanut-butter sandwich mountain.
Purists can harp on all they like about the Sun sessions and Sam Phillips, but I prefer The King in his tubby, sequin-busting pomp, the Vegas showman well propped up by a Herculean amphetamine intake and a tonne of lard.
Would Elvis have driven a Lamborghini? I like to think so. After all, he owned a DeTomaso Pantera, which he once famously blasted with a shotgun when it refused to start. The man clearly had soul, but no taste whatsoever, a devastating combination. It was surely only a matter of time before he got himself a Countach.
A 2007-spec Lamborghini Gallardo, however, is a completely different animal. Bathed in casino neon, it looks chiselled, buffed and honed; chaotic Italian temperament inevitably tempered by German DNA. There are echoes of the Countach's highly geometric shape, but the Gallardo is defiantly modern. As it should be.
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