on the sidewalls

Yes. We know. It’s mechanically indistinguishable from a SEAT Ibiza Cupra or Skoda Fabia vRS. Do you know quite how BORED the world is of that fact? Jaysus.

What The Most Repeated Car Fact of the 21st Century So Far neglects to mention is that the minutiae of a car’s execution is just as critical as its gearbox, engine and chassis. Which is why the Polo GTI is better than two cars that are the same as it.

The extra sheen of the Polo’s interior is just the start – the biggest difference between the three cars is on the road. Seriously.

A Fabia vRS feels like a cheap car with a very expensive engine – fast, but also a bit tall and imprecise. The Ibiza Cupra by comparison gives the impression that it’s trying too hard… all shouty, darty and hard without much charm or feel. Blame it on the height of their bodies, sound proofing and weight distribution.

In comparison, the Polo feels like a perfectly judged hot hatch marvel. It’s the last of the three to go on sale, but the GTI gives the impression that it was designed first – the ideal calibration of a shared platform that Skoda and SEAT had to cheapen and differentiate themselves from.

The ride is fractionally less busy… the induction noise slightly richer… the steering infinitesimally meatier… you’ve got to be a real hot-hatch loser hell-bent on finding tiny traces of tweaked tactility to feel the difference, but that’s what we are. Give us a good hot hatch in Wales over anything else on the road. And the Polo GTI is a very good hot hatch.

Blame it on witchcraft, blame it on mysterious mechanical alchemy… but we honestly think the difference is big enough to avoid blaming our own exaggerated memories of the other two cars.

And yes. We also know that the fizzy brilliance of a Renaultsport Clio makes praising the tactility of a Polo GTI sound a bit overwrought. The best of the three is still second best to the Renault.

Ginger hair, NHS specs and buck teeth. That’s what the Renault Wind would be blessed with on its first day at school. Such an easy car to bully.

Mocked for having a hunched back. Teased for its ridiculously flatulent name. Giggled at for its piddly 1.2 or 1.6 petrol engines. But, much like the best victims of bullying, the Wind has a few tricks that help fend off the cussing and let it start pulling punches of its own.

For a start, the roof is brilliant. Like the Ferrari Superamerica, it’s a one-piece flip top that hinges at the back window – in 12 seconds it emerges from under its cover on top of the boot, swings over the seats and attaches to the windscreen. You’ve got to close the final latch yourself, but unlike every other folding hard top, the roof doesn’t bulge into the boot when it’s down. Smart, quick and practical… easily outsmarts the bullies.

It’s even better when you drive it. The Wind uses RenaultSport Twingo running gear, which in turn means it shares a lot of bushes, bolts and funlinks with the goosebumpingly lovely Clio 182. Roof up, there’s no noticeable body shimmy – just massive clumps of grip, a tweakable rear end and a snuffly front. It’s the most chuckable front wheel drive convertible I’ve ever driven.

There’s some scuttle wobble with the roof down, and the steering’s not the most granular, but it wazzes in the eyes of Tigras, 207CCs and other such drivel wagons. A ninja’s roundhouse kick to the teasing fatties.

Starting at £15,500, the Wind is cheaper than its comparatively terrible rivals too. It’s worth paying a grand extra to upgrade from a 100bhp 1.2 to the ferociously revvy 133bhp 1.6 from the Twingo Cup, but matching its performance in a 207CC would cost another two grand on top. And the Peugeot drives like a soggy tissue in comparison.

So… any reasons to tease the Wind at all? Well yes. The interior is made of melted down Smartie lids. You can’t see anything over your shoulder. And no matter how hard you press the clutch, the gearbox occasionally snags its cogs. But that’s it.

If tedious twazbags hadn’t started referring to everything from eating a Wispa to watching Wheeler Dealers as a guilty pleasure, then that’s what I’d call the Wind. But I won’t. It might be an unusual car to like, but it’s not going to make you feel as guilty or happy as snorting cocaine off a French prostitute’s left breast. Although it could probably go topless in about the same time as her.

The moral of the story? Don’t be a bully. Or you’ll be attacked by a ferocious little fart.

Owners of the last shape Mazda3 MPS spent just as much time defending their cars against cynical mates as they did driving them. Banging on about the 256bhp power output, 6.1 second 0-62mph time and 155mph top speed, they were adamant that because it had better stats than a Golf GTi, the MPS was a better car. Sadly, their mates knew otherwise. The old car looked bland, felt synthetic and squirmed its power away with embarrassingly premature wheelspin. So, perhaps this new one can redress the balance and give its owners some more sophisticated grounds to argue on.

Encouragingly, all the key numbers have stayed exactly the same. Power, acceleration and top speed benchmarks are all identical to the last one, from the same 2.3 litre turbocharged four cylinder engine. All the work has gone into making it lighter and more rigid. So, in not worrying about making it look more impressive on paper, have Mazda made it more impressive on tarmac?

Being based on the current Focus, it’s got a crisp balance, a well-judged blend between roll control and pliancy, and decently chatty steering. It feels better resolved, more sophisticated and smarter than the last one – but it’s still not as accomplished as a Megane, Golf or Focus hotty. The better ride and awesome speed do mean we’d have an MPS over a Civic Type-R though.

And there’s still no getting away from the insanity going on at the front wheels. Any camber, rut or grease will be sniffed out and followed like a hunting hound to fox piss. On dry country roads it’s fun chasing the car down the route it wants to take, but on anything damp it’s a pain – even on what look like straight roads, you’ll be tugging against the torque as the boost comes in at 2,500rpm. Despite having limited torque output in first and second gears, and despite an LSD and torque-sensing software that adjusts the grunt depending on your steering inputs, it too often shows exactly why Ford invented Revoknuckle.

But the new MPS doesn’t rely on paper stats anywhere near as heavily as the previous car – despite the common faults, it comes closer to feeling like a well-rounded, controllable and dynamically talented hot hatch than before. Add an enormous kit list with parking sensors, bi-xenon lights, a cracking Bose hi-fi, leather everything and sat nav to a low £21,500 price and it starts to look like a sensible buy. The looks, even though it’s only available in practical but uncool 5dr, finally do the frenetic power delivery justice.

So, while even new MPS owners will need to defend their car to their mates, they’ll be able to put up a much stronger argument. It’s still no class leader, but offers incredible value, is incredibly quick and  much of the time frantic fun. If you’re the type who likes to end an argument with an arm wrestle, it could be just what you’re looking for.

Digesting the news… then spewing it out in 60 words

GM announced 9,000 jobs cuts across Europe – 60% will come from Germany, with the rest spread between the UK, Belgium, Spain and Poland. Mercedes and Renault announced that they’re working together to produce a rear-engined city car platform, ready by 2013. Renault also revealed the Gordini Twingo Renaultsport, the first of a range of specials reviving the historic Gordini name.

If you’re like us, you’ll have a habit of equating hot hatches with various genres of dance. The art of choreographed leaping shares a lot with the art of making shopping cars go quickly: an appreciation of rhythm; the visceral sense of power; the demand for agility… and, if you’re really doing it right, an emotional twinge. So, lets find out what the Ibiza Cupra Bocanegra is dancing to.

Could it be ballet? The daintiest and most technically nuanced discipline, mastered by the Seat’s Renaultsport Clio 200 rival. Warming up in pink tights, the Ibiza looks good – at £16,695 it’s a few hundred quid cheaper than the Clio, even after the £700 face-job of this Bocanegra edition. It looks meaner as it enters the dance floor too… but a flat-footed plie reveals an early unwillingness to ping around on Clio tippy toes. It looks nervous.

After some perseverance, the Ibiza livens up – but never quite matches the Renault’s dainty flair. The chassis has fallen victim to its own uptight stiffness; there’s so much rigidity that it can’t show off with the fluid rhythm of the quick Clio. Despite an electronic diff controlling the footwork, it ain’t no ballerina. Far too hard for all that flouncing about.

So, seeing as it’s too rigid for ballet, does it prefer a more regimented line dance? Thankfully not – it’s got too much energy. With a super- and turbo-charger strapped onto the little 1.4, the 178bhp Ibiza is an addictively meaty dance partner, with 184lb ft of torque twisting your hips from just 2,000rpm. It’s muscly, grunty and keen – a 7.2 second 0-62mph time is too quick for line dancing, so let’s move on before a biddy has a heart attack and spoils it for everyone.

Flamenco? A bit of gregarious hand-clapping and shouting seems right up the Ibiza’s street, and not just for lazy Spanish metaphors. While a Clio 200 would sneer at the castanets and nylon strung guitars for not being highbrow enough, the Ibiza is happy to get stuck in, grabbing you by the shirt frills and plying you with sangria. Tune into the dance and you’ll note the tactile steering and grinning enthusiasm as it sticks to the floor with grippy dancing shoes.

But still, even flamenco’s not quite right… there’s too much precision from the DSG gearbox – it wants to dance to something tighter. The double clutch system perfectly choreographs the Ibiza’s routine – whether in flappy paddle manual or subtle auto, there’s a chunky momentum to progress as everything works together and draws you in. The meaty sound, torquey pull and tactile steering make it feel like a mini-Scirocco. A proper grown-up.

And it’s the visceral, grunty nod to the Scirocco school of dance that reveals what the Cupra has been thumping along to all night. It might not be the most refined or dainty discipline – but balls to the bloody ballet. The Ibiza is having a laugh on a West End stage, banging bin lids and smacking broomsticks in shouty unison – the Cupra Bocanegra is dancing to the hard, visceral and addictive… Stomp the Musical.

Today in 60 words… it’s all you need to read.

Toyota spewed out even more pictures of its FT-86 Subaru mash-up, just to make sure we’re sick of it before its even unveiled in Tokyo next week. The Skoda Superb Estate galvanised its reputation as ‘most liked car ever’ by the British motoring press. And Renault showed us the billionth hot hatch of the month – the melty-faced £22k Megane 250.

If you like spizzy quick tiddly hatches, this tiny tearaway will tease tears from your eyes! And we’re not talking sad weeping; we’re shouting thrilled shreaking! Enter the Mitsubishi Colt Ralliart!

Since the past, the RenaultSport Twingo has been holding the crayons in the tiny hatch nursery – the hardcore happy handler marked the bench with tiny sharp fists! But that’s not the only kid the Colt has to out-bully! There’s the newness packed 500 Abarth that’s so naughty you’re not even allowed to call it Fiat! You will need a bath after that Italian filth!

So how does the Colt bang out it’s assertion in this shouty pre-school squeal off?! Let’s start with the screamer’s lungs!

We know Mitsubishi can make a turbo spun four pot bang box – and this Colt doesn’t let us know anything else! Ask loudly for all the toys and you’ll soon be riding along with 147 hard rocking horses, all helping you hit the 62nd fence in 74 tenths; that’s 13 quicker than the Frenchy Twingo! Don’t think it’s a highly strung stallion fusser either – you can surge around on 155lbs of pony talk with only tiny lag bads! If there was a shouting competition between the Colt and its European bullies, the Colt would win!

But, it’s not all about shouting at nursery… sometimes you need to play chase, and that’s where the Colt can feel a bit spazzy! On parents evening, the Colt would be happy during talk of sharpness, directness and even tidy rideness, but there would still need to be a sit down finger wag when it got home! Its problem is honesty!

Steer quick into corners and it tries to bend the truth about grip and texture – little nippers should chat away through the wheel and seat, but this one likes to keep quiet! Instead of happy grainy tactility you’re given slightly syrupy hostility! If you’d stepped into it after dancing with an Abarth or Twingo, you’d worry why your hands had gone numb! Fun times can be had with an easy wagging rear, but sometimes even that feels a bit like playing see-saw under anaesthetic!

If you’re a fan of scratching your fingers over plastics surfaces and complaining with the words brittle or cheap, you’ll enjoy a busy day out in the Colt! Plasti-refino-dampingness is no better than the boggo Colt with its three cylinder wheeze-box and £8k money ticket! Some metal pedals and fatty hating seats aren’t enough to make it feel a worthy inside for a top-spec model boss! At least it’s not a financial extortion!

The Mitsubishi purse needs lining with £12,049 for a little Ralliart Colt – that’s £1,500 cheaper than a 500 Abarth but £300 more than the slower but pervier Twingo! What to do?! If you’re vein faced trendy kid it could come down to looks! Mitsubishi must have watched the Cage/Travolta skin swapping Face/Off film before drawing this… it’s got the same face as an Evo X! That might be a swinger for some angry Jap fans that don’t mind looking like skanks!

In the summaries, it’s business as usual for a Japanese hotbox – power and angriness make you Jappy Happy but plastics and tactility make you Jappy Sad! What the point is though might be this… if you want the fastest infant hatchling, get the Colt and you’ll smile like a man with two willies! If you want the most satisfying get one of the Europeans – but don’t shed tears when you get spanked from the lights!

Renault have coaxed a size 8 Megane R26 hot hatch into Gok Wan’s naked booth of mirrors – then made it strip to its surrender flag panties with red teary eyes! Auto Exclamation hits the road and tells you how to feel!

First things first – when you feed the Megane beans, it screams like Lulu in a fire! In a normal R26 you just get a turbo whistle, but thanks to a skimmed exhaust, placcy back windows, binned stereo and skimpy sound isolation, this R26.R sounds like an agoraphobic hyena in an electric storm! All that and 125kg lighter than the fatty R26… screamedelica kittens! And don’t think its all whistle and no thistle!

It’s got spikey turbo thistle! Power is equal to a normal R26, with 230 horses bolting from a two litre stable… but because Gok Wan’s mirrored booby cube forced it to diet, this R26.R marks the 62nd bench in a flattened six seconds! That type of speed is exactly three tenths quicker than the car with a radio!

And, if you’re worried this anorexic Madame can only run in straight lines, then don’t! This skinny cat likes to flaunt it in the twisters! The R26.R is stiff enough to make you happier than Larry’s wife on date night! With kinky optional Toyo rubber-wear it has grip and poise in the dry to make you squeal too! And don’t think that the front is a bigger bender than the back – they’re as stiff as each other! There’ll be no wiggly bush trouble for this horny French maid!

But buyer beware; she won’t like you if you take her out for some watersports! This sexy froglet has boundaries! Semi-slicks and a wet mattress get her too excited and she starts squirming and fighting like she needs tying up! Just a peck on the cheek in dampness please!

What of the other hatch-backs on the squirmy stripper block? Well, this lady likes to play alone! You can take a Golf for your babies, or an Astra VXR for social scabies but the Megane is out there in a speedy league on its tod! Would you like to pay £24k for a car without the stereo sounds, friendly rear seats and a vacuumed hyena? Maybe you would, maybe you wouldn’t – it’s up to you! But, if you would… you shouldn’t be protecting your hairy head with a metal sheet!

A flaming hatch-back is made for compromising circumstances! In practical worlds, you take the shopping, the babies, the doggies and ladies… then burn holes in the roads with biddies on holiday! The Megane does all the howly-time things tidier than granny’s cupboard, but doesn’t do the hatchback things at all! That puts it in a completely different field full of Caterhams covered in exciting rear wheel drive mud… where the R26.R looks like it’s being pulled along backwards!

The toastiest Megane may be the best bender of the hatchbacks… but it’s not the best bender of the lidless squealy boys!