Every day Stuart Mayim wades neck-deep in a morass of high-end play cars, the kind whose names end in "i"-yeah, Ferrari and Maserati and like that, so you might surmise that he gets all the high-C revs and terminal velocity for several lifetimes. His exotic store is in easternmost New York and called Ferrari-Maserati of Long Island, not Exotics-You-Can't-Afford Motorcars, or something equally off-putting, and by this you might think that his disposition about ancient American clout is for sub-humans masquerading as people.

It's also quite possible that you've suffered the Noo Yawk Attitude. They can't help it. It's a purely inherited thing in their genes as surely as X and Y chromosomes. If Stuart's got an attitude, it's that all the whispering civility of namby-pamby Benzes and BMW darlings is anathema. His own cars should be brutally fast, brake like a Formula 1 racer, and handle like his life depended on it. He's also of a mind that these cars should be heard a long time before you actually see them. Or so you would think.

Stuart Mayim's predilection for power began before he could legally operate a motor vehicle on public roads. Like most of us, he obviously wasn't deterred by some irrelevant rule written by wrinkled conservative white guys. Regardless that he wasn't of age when these heavy metal street warriors ruled absolutely. He dug Detroit Iron with no less passion than any of us, so when he committed to building a muscle car of understated but epic proportions, he could do no less than champion the best traits of the exotics in his dealership. He was also determined that each part and each system would be the finest available and ministered by craftsmen of equal quality and devotion to the finished piece. We should all be so fortunate. Or so you would think.

As it happened, Stuart snooped Scott Gulbranson's www.lateral-g.net and asked him about the possibilities. Concurrently, Gulbranson's own ride was going together at Autokraft Racecars & Restorations in Eau Claire, Wisconsin, and he imparted this to Stuart. A phone call later, and AutoKraft's Kurt Anderson and Paul Nowak were on the case. They found an original-paint roller in New Hampshire. As for the righteous parts and pieces, Gulbranson spoke; Mayim listened. Then he turned the entire masquerade (as you will discover) over to Autokraft.

Autokraft prepped the suspension/chassis with the requisite hot-dog bits from Detroit Speed, partly for the knife-edged efficiency of the modernized chassis members and partially to accommodate the current-craze bulbous rubber and deep-set rims. Seems that the venerable 275/40ZR18/10-inch wheel combo that was once de rigueur at the rear of a car are now rolling up front, displaced by downright anemic 275/35s and mammoth, but seemingly all too common 335/30s on foot-wide hoops at the rear. A car equipped thusly is destined to stick to tarmac like grim death. In this case, the meats are Pilot Sports on lightweight 10- and 12-inch Fikse Profil 5S modulars (6.125- and 5.625-inch backspace, respectively). All of it fits neatly and comfortably inside the metal work just as it was designed to do. The time was opportune to lay up the DSE mini-tubs that easily encapsulate the grosser Michelin rollers.