Infant-minded lads in their slammed, drainpiped , motors stepping on the loud pedal when they eye somebody eyeing them. Look, sonny. We just happened to glance in your direction at nothing in particular. We didn’t take a look cos we are impressed and we certainly ain’t more impressed-er. What could have been mild but fair appreciation of the talents of the employees of the local body-shop has been ruined by your attempts to out-do the trombone/kazoo section of the Royal Philharmonic.
Oh, and take that sulky look off your face and your stupid rigid arm off the top of the steering wheel while you’re at it.