Cut to a new part of the tundra, where atop a snowy hill a few metres in the distance stood May's Griffin. Clarkson is standing closer to the camera.
Clarkson: Let me explain the course in question. It's essentially a replica of one we used when we were last here, only in the cold rather than a humid jungle. We all start at the top... (turns to point at the Griffin and the hill) of that hill over there. The Trueborn, as he calls himself, will then have to power his way down and through those trees over there.
Cut to an overhead view of a grove of trees about twenty metres away from the hill, the grove itself being around 70 metres thick.
Clarkson (Out of shot): Which will give the environmentalists another reason to hate us. Again. Once he's through there, he'll have to stomp his way through the ruined town on the other side. (Cut to a small, ruined town on the other side of the wood). When he gets past that, it's on to the frozen river. (Cut to a wide, frozen river on the other side of that town.) And finally, there is a firing range, with three targets we have to shoot.
(Cut back to Clarkson, who is now being joined by Hammond and May)
Clarkson: Where there will be a little twist.
May: What do you mean?
Clarkson: I had another text from Wilman. (pulls out the Nokia to read said text) "The Trueborn will have thirty seconds to shoot all three targets. Every second under the time limit knocks a second off the total time. Every second over adds an extra second onto the overall time. Fastest run wins."
Hammond: So it's not just a test of power and acceleration, it's a test of which mech is the most accurate.
Clarkson: Ahem, not quite.
Hammond: W-Why not?
Clarkson: Have you see the firing range?
Hammond: No?
Clarkson: (points in the direction of the town, visible from where they stood) Look over the buildings and see if you can see anything strange over there.
May: I see them.
Hammond: (squinting) What?
Cut to a zoomed in view of the roof tops, with the newly focused shapes of inactive BattleMechs just visible over said rooftops.
Hammond (Out of shot): Oh.
Cut back to a view of the trio.
May: (dejected as the realisation kicks in) So it's a test of firepower.
Clarkson: Which me and him [Hammond] have, but you...
Hammond: (smirking and struggling not to laugh) Haven't got any!
May: We shall see.
(Cut to the Griffin at the top of the hill, a faint wave of heat running out of the back of it)
May (VO): My Griffin was the first to go. And despite Mr Wilman's reservations about this so-called Trueborn. I was confident that even he would appreciate the brilliance of my mech.
Cut to the cockpit of the Griffin, where a man covered in head to toe in a full body suit and a small, opaque helmet was sat in the seat. Even without a visual of the man's face, the fact he was punching the buttons on the cockpit console and audibly growling showed how angry he was.
'Trueborn': What is this freebirth shit!? Why have I only got three weapons?! It is not even worth using in a trial!
May (VO): (beat) Oh cock...
Cut to the outside view of the Griffin again, where at the sound of a gunshot, the medium mech surged forward, it's feet easily finding traction as it stomped downhill.
May: Look, it's off to a good start isn't it!
Clarkson: Well, we don't know yet. We haven't timed this course yet.
The Griffin quickly reaches the bottom of the hill and accelerates to it's top speed, charging towards the forest.
Clarkson (VO): We couldn't deny though it was moving at a decent pace. With the Trueborn at the wheel, we're looking forward to seeing that machine crush the trees in it's way-
With a flash of smoke and fire, the Griffin fires it's jump jets, rising into the air and sailing over the tops of the trees before landing on the other side with all the grace that a 55-ton mech would have.
Clarkson (VO): ...and instead decides to be a cheating bastard.
As the Griffin charges towards the town, we cut back to the presenters.
Clarkson: So I'm guessing after what happened last time, you didn't get this one from Focht?
May: No, he was furious after what happened to the Pheonix Hawk. It's still doing well though!
Hammond: It's still boring though James.
May: It's not!
Clarkson: Shuush! It's going into the town!
Cut to the Griffin charging into the town, not slowing down as it did so. It effortlessly sidesteps several cars and even a tank. But as it rounds a corner, it turns too hard, brushing it's right shoulder against the side of a building. Some of the armour is scraped off the shoulder plate and leaves the corner to crumble down in the process. Cut to the Trueborn, where a warning flashes on one of console screens.
'Trueborn': Poorly built piece of shit! It can't even take a little hit!
Cut to the trio, which includes a visibly angry May.
May: Watch the paint!
Hammond: That's a bit sloppy!
Clarkson: (struggling not to laugh) He's more worried about the paintwork than getting through the course!
Cut back to the Griffin, emerging from the town and approaching the frozen river.
Hammond: He's gonna have to jump over this.
Cut back to the presenters, May tearing his eyes away from the scene.
May: I can't watch!
Clarkson: You've got jumpjets May, you'll be fine unless he mucks up the landing.
Cut back to the Griffin. Dramatic music playing as the mech approaches the river, and yet, it doesn't seem to slow down, the jump jets not igniting either.
Clarkson: Hang on? What's he doing!?
May: Fire the jets man!
The Griffin reaches the edge of the river, still going at full speed. An armoured boot hits the ground, the ice creaking... only for the music to cut off and for the Griffin to effortlessly sprint across the frozen river to the other side. Cut to the presenters, looking stunned. Clarkson's mouth in particular is hanging open.
Clarkson: That is...
Hammond: ...unexpected...
Clarkson: Impossible...
May: (recomposing himself and looking smug) Well, you know what they say. He who is lightest, shall be quickest.
Cut back to the Griffin finally arriving at the firing range, which was now clearly shown to be a field with a cluster of damaged BattleMechs, tanks and other vehicles scattered around.
Hammond (VO): As annoying as it was that the Griffin didn't fall into the river, it wouldn't matter if it couldn't take down all those targets. Which is not as easy as firing on wooden props.
A series of lights started coming online on a tank, marking it as a target, the Griffin immediately snaps round towards it. With a loud crackling zap, a blue-white blast of light shot from the pistol-like ER PPC, crossing the distance in less than a second and blasting the tank apart in a fireball. A drone whirls overhead, floating across the field. The Griffin now leans back, a little red beam swiping the sky from the mech's torso, initially missing the drone before snapping onto target in the same burst. Cut back to the presenters.
Clarkson: This is really annoying!
May: I told you, you don't need eight weapons, you just need two or three good ones.
The third target, a badly damaged Wolverine, slowly powers up, lighting up as it straightened up. Cut to the Trueborn, the pilot visibly shaking inside the cockpit.
'Trueborn': ...#long beep#...
Cut back to the Griffin, firing a salvo from the LRM-20 rack, the missiles impacting the target in a cluster of orange explosions. The Wolverine sways under the blows, it's damaged armour severely blackened. The hand mounted ER PPC is raised again, crackling as it prepared to fire. Another blast rolled out, only to skim past the mech's shoulder and off into the distance. A second shot boomed out, this time flying wide all together. Cut to the presenters, where May is now looking more annoyed.
Hammond: You were saying?
May: That's an Extended-Range Particle Projector Cannon! How can he miss!?
Cutting back to the Griffin once again, a third shot striking the knee of the Wolverine and sending metal flying, but still not downing it.
Clarkson: He must have broke something on that corner.
'Trueborn': #extremely long beep#
Heat now visibly rising from the back, the Griffin charges across the field towards Wolverine, raising it's left fist and slamming it straight into the cockpit of the Wolverine. We cut back to the trio, Clarkson visibly whistling whilst Hammond winces, meanwhile May fists the air in delight as they watch the Wolverine begin to topple.
May: Yes!
The Wolverine finally keels over and slams onto it's back with a colossal bang, snow being thrown up into the air as the Griffin stomps closer to the fallen wreck.
May: Yes!
Hammond: Well credit where credits due!
Clarkson: I want to be really annoyed, but that was spectacular!
Cut fully back to the presenters.
May: I told you. You can't go wrong with a Griffin!
Clarkson: I still don't think it's that good yet - (looks visibly disturbed as a large number of loud bangs echo out of shot) - What the hell?
The trio turn round, cut back to the Griffin, which is repeatedly stamping on the wreckage of the Wolverine with it's right foot, crushing more and more of the fallen mech with each strike.
'Trueborn': #beep#-fucking-#beep#-#beep#-traitorous freewan-#beep#-mother-#extremelylongbeep#
Cut to the presenters, who look increasingly disturbed at the sight.
May: Is he allowed to do that?
Clarkson: Well, that's interesting, normally they would salvage whatever they could, hence the admittedly wooden targets we shot last time, but with all the factories being rebuilt, it's now cheaper just to get new mechs. Which is why we've got actual mechs here now to shoot. (beat) But he really doesn't like that Wolverine doesn't he?
Hammond: No Jeremy, he doesn't.
More banging rings out of shot, the Griffin still stomping on the Wolverine.
Clarkson: We could be here a while.
Hammond: Yes.
To Be Continued...