FINAL SIX: THE SIX MOST & LEAST METAL RIDES

I drive a black ’98 Honda Accord, and people, that motherfucker is a piece of heaven. Not only does Pox (as I’ve named her) handle well and have great gas mileage, but she has also stayed relatively intact through more crashes, blow-outs, and road joints than I can count. Sure, there are cigarette burns in the ceiling, unidentifiable stains in the backseat, and the lingering smell of formaldehyde in the trunk (I had a dissected bunny in there for a while; I don’t want to talk about it), but it doesn’t matter—Pox keeps me moving and treats me well, and I love her.

This, however, doesn’t necessarily make Pox all that metal. Metal vehicles should be big, flashy, noisy gas-guzzlers that can mow down anything in their path and crack the skulls of fallen men beneath their massive wheels. Cars (and other vehicles) these days are all about aerodynamics and environmental goodness, which usually result in them looking, to cite Sin City’s Marv, like electric shavers. So to make sure you’re riding in style this summer, below are the Six Most and Least Metal Rides—big fat tires and everything.

The Six Most Metal Rides

1) The ZZ Top Eliminator This 1933 custom Ford coupe was not only made famous by a band who make Clutch sound like techno, but is the ultimate car for rolling around and picking up chicks. Every girl’s crazy about a badass car like this.

2) The Panzer IV Fuck the Nazis. That said, those miserable bastards invented some badass war machines. The Panzer IV is the tank you dream about, an epic war machine that can roll over, blow apart, and utterly decimate all that stands in your way. I think Marduk will vouch for me on this.

3) Christine Stephen King’s 1958 Plymouth Fury isn’t metal in appearance, it’s metal by nature—it’s possessed! It’ll fucking kill you, dude! It’ll go out of its way! Probably the only vehicle on this list that I wouldn’t want to drive.

4) 1962 Presidential Limousine SS100X Like Christine, this black convertible limo doesn’t look extremely metal, but its cultural impact is pretty damn heavy. You can tell Oswald was just envious of this baller ride.

5) Stuntman Mike’s Death Proof Chevy I know what you’re asking—“But Chris, I need a vehicle that I can use to kill young women in a semi-sexual manner!” I hear you, buddy. This custom skull-and-cross-bolts 1970 Chevy Nova will do just the trick. Finish up those nachos, get an unsuspecting coed in your sights, and ride, ride on.

6) Grave Digger SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY! COME SEE SOME MONSTER TRUCK MADNESS DOWN AT THE MOUNTAIN DEW SPORTS ARENA! ALSO APPEARAING—TRUCKASAURUS!

The Six Least Metal Rides

1) The Love Bug Who else would top the list of non-metal vehicles other than Herbie, the anthropomorphic Volkswagen Beetle that everyone wants to crash? This off-white living junker can squeak and whirr all it wants, I’m still gonna sell it for spare parts and hear it scream. Bonus points for ejecting Lindsey Lohan through the windshield.

2) The Popemobile Somewhere between a pick-up truck and an elevator is this, the pope’s bulletproof ride. Not only does this car transport the greatest of all lies, but it’s pretty much the ugliest vehicle on this list.

3) The Mystery Machine Scratch that—this car out-uglies the Popemobile. The hideous swamp-green transport of Scooby Doo’s gang is a hideous piece of shit that’s constantly breaking down when it’s not transporting over-inquisitive hippies. Zoinks and shit.

4) The Mini Cooper All “smart” cars make me want to vomit, but the Mini Cooper is the lamest and most mom-friendly of them all. Look at a Mini Cooper in highway traffic and tell me you don’t want to crush it. Tell me! Just try!

5) The bus that crushed Cliff Burton You’ve seen the comic, here’s the tragic. No vehicle is less metal than the tour bus that killed Metallica’s original bass player in 1986. Hopefully, the pieces of this bus were dismantled and buried somewhere dark.

6) Greased Lightning Like leather? And showtunes? Thrusting your pelvis at other dudes? Well, hop on! A-well-a-well-a-well-a HUNGH!

by Chris Krovatin