PCH, Rue Britannia Edition: MGC or Bentley Mulsanne?

Illustration for article titled PCH, Rue Britannia Edition: MGC or Bentley Mulsanne?

Who would have thought a Volvo could ever out-PCH an early Mazda? That's what happened in our most recent Choose Your Eternity poll, with the IROC Bertone stomping on the unrotaried '73 Mazda like it was Horgh versus Hello Kitty (yes, yes, Horgh is a Norwegian, but Norway is still Volvo territory). Today we need to ensure that Italy's triumph over France in the PCH Superpower Showdown doesn't relegate Britain to second-rate PCH Superpower status in our hearts, so here we go on an all-British matchup...

Ever since I caught that '69 MGC-GT on the street in Alameda, I've been toying with the idea of buying a one-way ticket to Crazy Town by getting my very own MGC project. As a former MGB owner, I should know better, but there's just something so perfect about a sporty little British Leyland-built machine with a primitive six-banger installed by Ozzy Osbourne and his BL coworkers using sledgehammers, gin, and anger as their primary tools. Fortunately for me, the C is hard to find... but if you really look, you can get one. Say, this 1969 MGC (go here if the ad disappears), which is currently full of Colorado snow and available for a mere six grand. The car appears to have been exposed to the elements for many years, and you figure most buyers might want to know about the rust situation... but the seller knows that it's a waste of time to describe a car you want to sell; what buyers really want is a block of copy/pasted stats about the car when it was new. But we do get the very valuable info that "all the parts are there but the flywheel," a statement that tends to inspire more questions than it answers. But it's a genuine MGC, folks!

British sports cars are great fun, of course, and owning one will build up that all-important knuckle scar tissue that tells the world you're not afraid of a little Hell (which reminds me: I ran across a Whitworth socket in a seldom-opened drawer in my toolbox the other day, and I dropped it like a red-hot coal once I realized what it was). But what if you need to show your homies that you roll with class these days, in stark contrast to their Chevy Berettas with 24s, yet you still want to go British? That's when you need to go with a Bentley! And not some boring old Malaise Bentley, oh no- you need a Bentley that reeks of cocaine and junk bonds! Say, this '88 Bentley Mulsanne S (go here if the ad disapppears), available for less than the average value of the pharmaceuticals stored in its glovebox during a typical 1988 business day. The Mulsanne S packs the 411-cube Rolls-Royce V8 under the bonnet and a sporty suspension suitable for high-speed evasion of ex-business partners packing Glocks under their tuxedos. This example needs some work, we'll admit, but the asking price is only $3,000! Just head on down to your local Pick Your Part and grab a Mulsanne grille and... hmmm... well, OK, you might have to spend a few bucks on parts here and there. Does it run? Is the interior nice? These questions and more remain unanswered, but: $3,000 Bentley!


Gawker Media polls require Javascript; if you're viewing this in an RSS reader, click through to view in your Javascript-enabled web browser.

Share This Story

Get our newsletter


Rob Emslie

Oh sweet Jebus, the Bentley. All the it will take to bring the MG back to life is a few visits from the UPS man with some love from Moss Motors. All the interior parts are available, as well as that flywheel you're wringing your hands over. Once done, it will be a nice cruiser- torsion bar front end and all.

The Bentley on the other hand is a bottomless pit of automotive despair. Even if it isn't a fright pig, and weren't being used as a home for the current owner's 23 cats, it would represent PCH. These things had electrical systems designed by a sadist. You would very likely never get the car running right, but at least you'd have bragging rights: "See that car on the blocks in my front yard? Yes sir, that's a Bentley."