He buys a wooden Lamborghini and tries to take it on a trip (obviously a bad idea).

Some car purchases start out as a child's dream. And others that start out as a joke... before turning into a survival expedition. This story clearly falls into the latter category. Today's hero is Vice Grip Garage, American YouTuber and notorious lover of improbable projects. He's headed for East Tennessee to pick up a "Lamborghini Countach", advertised as a model from... 1980. Except that: the car isn't a Lamborghini. And it's not exactly a Countach either.

Beneath the angular Sant'Agata Bolognese silhouette lies the most classic kit car base of the 80s and 90s: a Pontiac Fiero. And on this Fiero, a man named Jeff spent five years handcrafting an entire body... out of wood and Plexiglas. The result has a nickname that sums it all up: the "Wood-beghini". Problem: it hasn't been driven in six or seven years.

The engine is not Italian at all

Even before turning the key, Vice Grip Garage discovers the mechanical truth: a rear-mounted V6, presented as an engine from a Chevrolet Beretta. A far cry from the legendary V12, but for a home-made kit car, "it'll do". His plan? Do as if nothing had happened and return home by road, for around 300 miles (almost 480 km). The trip home soon turns into a challenge: there's room for "storage", of course... but the passenger compartment is so narrow that he contorts his body to get in, realizes that he can't see very well, and that he's going to have to get used to driving in a toad position. On board, it's not exactly a supercar cockpit; he recognizes elements of the Fiero. One point, however, is taken very seriously: there's a fire extinguisher. And given the main material, it's probably the car's most premium option.

The first few kilometers: smoke, then... fire

Against all logic, the car starts. It even runs "not so badly". For a few moments, the idea that this heap of wood could actually drive takes on an almost credible form. Then reality takes over. First, a tire goes flat. Then, driving becomes a constant struggle. And then comes the moment when the story takes a turn for the worse: smoke. Lots and lots of smoke. And that phrase you never want to utter, least of all in a wooden car: "I think I'm on fire."

He stops in a hurry, takes out his things, grabs the fire extinguisher. He doesn't even know exactly where to aim. The smoke seems to be coming from the front, and he finally identifies the culprit: heating hoses and, probably, a pile of dirt/leaves that doesn't like the temperature at all. The "Lamborghini" literally becomes a rolling barbecue. Later, he even tries to put it through an automatic car wash. Bad idea: the water gets in, the wood doesn't look protected, and he gets the impression that the car comes out... worse than before.

On the freeway, the car heats up, smokes, seems to lack power, and even the alternator starts smoking. By dint of wanting "just a few more miles", the mechanics give up the ghost. He tries one last stretch of freeway, and even thinks of joining a friend twenty miles down the road. But this time, the car wouldn't negotiate any more: the engine eventually seized up completely.

On the side of the road, the Wood-beghini is officially dead. At least the bodywork can be used as fuel.