2007 Lamborghini Murcielago LP640

Squint all you want, but still you can't tell. Far in the distance, approaching fast, it's an alien shape, a silhouette not found on the standard vehicle-I.D. charts. What the...? It's a...it's...okay, 50 bucks says it's a giant nacho cheese Dorito.

Suddenly the UFO flashes into rakish relief and claws to a standstill at your feet. A wisp of ceramic brake dust coils out from one of the Cuisinart-blade wheels. Heat waves warp the view above the glass engine cover. The Pearl Metallic Orange paint pulsates as if freshly washed in a reactor core. And then, with a click-hissssss, the scissor doors open, one followed by the other, the pair gliding skyward with luxurious torpor until they resemble tangerine slices garnishing a wedge of pumpkin pie, the archways beneath revealing a space-capsule interior of black and quilted-orange leather.

Forget the normal car rules-they don't apply here. Look at this thing. At its roofline, the LP640 stands just 3.7 feet high-while it's fully capable of churning your guts like a rollercoaster, it's too short to ride on one. All the height that isn't there has instead been tacked onto the sides, making the LP640 wider than Kobe Bryant is tall (the Lambo passes more, too). New bumpers front and rear visually siphon off whatever few percentage points of body fat remained from the Murcilago's already competition-toned, carbon-fiber physique. The exhausts now meet inside a single port that juts from the rear diffuser like the jet nozzle on the original Batmobile. And, as if the potential for Zap!-Pow!-Ciao! thrust weren't enough, the redesigned taillights seem poised to kick in blasts from their propeller-like LEDs should a prancing horse come nipping at this big bull's flanks.

You try writing a cold, objective review of the new $323,160 Lamborghini Murcilago LP640. You might as well go on a dinner date with Heidi Klum and not have a good time because she's never read any Dostoyevsky.