Last week's BMW Z3 M Coupe was well liked by the PH massive, but was short on the sort of searing spice that makes automotive life truly adventurous. We promised you something braver this time, and here it is - a Pill that doesn't so much reset the balance as accidentally pay Apple's quarterly profits into your overdrawn current account. Behold, the £3,995 Mercedes S600.
Merc's cheaper 12-cylinder models have been a very happy hunting ground for this column since its inception. This week's W220 S-Class is the fourth of the genre to make the grade (and then likely overheat at the top.) It follows on from a twin-turbo W221 S600, a C140 S600 Coupe and a C215 CL600, all of which look like green salads next to this week's chunk of bloody red meat.
The CL600 we featured back in February was being offered for just £7,500, which looked like a bargain at the time. But this saloon version of the same mechanical package is up for not much more than half that. It's the cheapest 12-cylinder car currently in the classifieds - by nearly ten grand. As you might expect, it's not in tip-top condition, but that's definitely reflected in the price.
The 1990s were not a particularly happy time for Mercedes. The brand was in flux. Or, less kindly, crisis. The famed solidity of the company's products had earned it a loyal and devoted following among those who didn't mind paying for quality, from Stuttgart's taxi drivers to the middle-class buyers who would happily fork out more for a four-cylinder E-Class with keep-fit windows than a fully loaded V6 Granada.
But while sales had grown, Merc's leadership wanted more, especially as bitter rival BMW's volumes began to take off. So Mercedes decided to ape those now banned gym pill adverts and Get Big Fast. Cars would look bolder, be packed with exciting new technology and much less concern would be given to how well they would last over ten years. Or, in many cases, even three.
As the brand's flagship, the S-Class led this new strategy. The previous W140 generation car hadn't been a poster child for trouble-free motoring, but the W220 would take the moneypit reputation to a whole new level.
Launched in 1998, the "S-Class for the 21st century" as Merc pitched it was styled by Steve Mattin, the designer who would later lead Volvo through its pig snout period. It was much more curvaceous than its predecessor, the then-catchphrase being "organic design". The W203 C-Class that followed in 2000 would offer a downsized take on similar themes, but the S-Class was pretty radical when it was launched. It wasn't just the exterior - the cabin also gained a multitude of swoops and circular forms where its predecessors were straight and slabby.
The S was also to be a technical showcase. Air suspension was standard, with posher versions getting the much more complex Active Body Control which used hydropnuematic suspension struts charged by an on-board pump to fight roll and mitigate bumps. All versions got stability control, also the novel Brake Assist, this delivering maximum retardation in response to a stamped left pedal even if the driver's foot wasn't creating enough hydraulic pressure. Other innovations included a COMAND infotainment system with colour sat-nav, curtain airbags, keyless go, xenon headlights and the pioneering option of radar cruise control.
Buyers of the W220 had no shortage of engines to choose from, most of which are much too boring to detain us more than briefly: two V6s, two V8s, a CDI diesel V6 and - in some LHD markets - a brawny V8 oiler. At the top of the range Mercedes offered two powerplants with very different characters but almost identical power outputs: a 5.5-litre 355hp AMG V8 and a 5.8-litre 362hp V12 that powered the range-topping S600. Both engines had the same 391 lb ft torque peaks.
The V12's main purpose was to appeal to those buyers who regarded more cylinders as better, but also those who wanted a quieter life than the sometimes snarly AMG 55 could offer. Because despite the triple-valve engine's size and number of moving parts, its muscle was barely flexed in everyday use - only under hard progress did it have any noticeable note at all. Progress in a fresh and well-maintained S600 is about as serene as it gets; endurance on longer journeys is limited only by fuel range - only the gentlest-footed use would get more than 350 miles from a brimmed 88 litre tank - and occupants' bladder capacity.
While the S600 was popular in some places, with close to half of early production going to the former Soviet Bloc, most markets preferred the cheaper and more characterful AMG version. But not the first buyer of our Pill.
Bringing us to some of the reasons for that low, low price. The first and most obvious is the fact the car has covered 179,000 miles. The second is the fact it carries a Cat D marker, although one it earned as long ago as 2010. The third, and most significant, has to be the most comprehensive (and honest) advert description in Brave Pill history. Edited highlights include an SRS airbag warning light, an occasional appearance for the scarier one that indicates the ABC system is about to get spendy, brake pad warnings, non-functioning indicator repeaters on the mirrors, rust on doors and rear wings plus a dinged back bumper. The vendor also reports "a slight notchy feeling when turning right only."
Obscured number plates deny us a forensic look at the car's MOT history, but such frank disclosures in the text suggest it won't be all green. Or even mostly. On the plus side, we're assured that the tyres are good and that it has recently had £1,600-worth of coil packs, one of the other well-known areas of pricey borkage. The previous owner also had it for ten years - which counts as a very good innings for something so expensive to run; we're also told that the air-con still works and the hot-and-cold seats are both still heated and ventilated.
The advert also bears the proviso "Trade sale only, no warranty given or implied, spares or repairs" - one that is almost certain to excite some barrack room lawyers in the comments, but actually looks like a fairly candid admission of the state the car is in. What would be a fair price for a comprehensive warranty on something like this? £5,000 a year? £10,000? Apple's quarterly profits?
So, in short, it's about as brave as any car can be without actually being on fire - although one that must be close to being worth more in parts than it is in one piece. But if anyone with sufficiently clanky trousers is contemplating a banger rally, or even a high-speed escape from a bank robbery, it could be perfect. V12 motoring doesn't come cheaper than this.
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