By Richard S. Chang
We used to call him Manson. He had wild dark hair and sunken eyes that were more than just scary; they made you think that he woke up every morning and whispered to himself, “It’s a good day for a killin’.” Although I never heard of him brainwashing a pack of unsupported hippie chicks into slaughtering anyone, there were stories about his picking off blue jays from the trees with a .22, which, to a 10-year-old, is just as awful on the bad-guy scale. Plus, he owned a Harley—a loud one that would disturb my dad during Murder She Wrote. But most of all, he used to scare the living (and dead) poo out of all the kids on the block.
But the image of Manson on a motorbike is nothing compared to the sight of Edmund Carnecer peering out the windshield of his ’94 Toyota Supra painted a sinister black, as pictured on our cover. Not that Edmund is scary at all. Quite the contrary, he’s one of the nicest guys I’ve met. You see—now lean closer, I don’t want it to hear—it’s the Supra. The car seems to suck sunshine out of the sky and spit it back out in a dark halo of gloom. It’s the Devil’s chariot. I can almost convince myself that this car wasn’t built, but rather conjured. And if I had seen and heard this monster churning and worming up and down my block all those years ago, I’m sure I would’ve pleaded with my parents to move.
As with all the cars featured in the magazine, the Supra is appropriately dropped. But the lowered stance does a great deal more to this car than, let’s say, a CRX. Instead of just giving the lines a sportier angle, the swapped-in Kei’s Office coilovers unleash a hidden edge to Edmund’s Supra. They give it a lineman’s crouch, seemingly increasing the bulk and body of the Japan-exclusive Abflug Type-GTM body kit.
The vents on the hood and the Z3 shark gills along both front fenders add to the battle-ready stare while contributing a timeless flavor to the body at the same time. Peer deeply into the opaque Spiehecker Black finish and through the mist of lilac pearl, and you might be able to see a bit of the old British backroads or the German Autobahn.
Strictly Japanese are the bronze-finished 18x9 Volk Racing SE-37 wheels (pictured with Nitto NT-555 tires). With this brand-new-for-2000 lightweight forged racing wheel, Volk Racing revisits the classic mesh design with its own sense of flair. The ones you see in these photos are the first of its kind on any car in the States. So to say that Edmund’s car is with select company is an understatement. This Supra stands alone.
But let’s forget about the looks for a moment. It’s time to deal with the “talking the talk and walking the walk” thing. And when people begin conversations on Supras, no one ever inquires, “What does it look like?” It’s always about the power. And with a car that can be tuned to 500 hp without breaking a sweat, it takes a lot more than an intake-header-exhaust job to raise eyebrows.
No such letdown here. Under the shell lies a frightening 2JZAGTE powerplant that’s been given the full tilt with a GReddy T-78 single-turbo upgrade, intake, and front-mount intercooler, and Type C wastegate. Other turbo supplements include a Blitz blow-off valve, HKS fuel regulator and pump, Tanabe Racing Medallion exhaust, Random Technologies Hi-Flow catalytic converter, and custom 3-inch exhaust piping.
And while the engine does have enough pull to draw all the proper hyperspace allusions, don’t start comparing this Supra to a race car. It won’t be winning many NIRA races, and it wasn’t built for thrashing. Cruising might be a more suitable option. Winning import car shows is a step closer to the truth. And in the category of show-prepped Supras, this one is a thoroughbred. The rear hatch hides a potent Phoenix Gold Reactor Series Special Edition six-channel amplifier, a Deep Cycle Optima 800 cold-cranking amp battery, an Alumapro 15 Farrad capacitor, and three 10-inch subwoofers. It’s safe to say that weekends in the country are out of the question.
Inside the Supra, we’re pretty much in Stealth Fighter territory. First of all, there’s carbon fiber. Lots of it—custom-styled—spread all along the dash. The seats are upholstered in purple and black (with matching purple shift boot), and the gauges are trimmed with chrome. A Kenwood P907 touch-screen head unit serves as the brains behind the sights and sounds, and a Panasonic in-dash DVD player offers you the freedom of choice. Flip down the visors and there are two more 5.5-inch LCD screens at your disposal.
But the dials, knobs, and displays aren’t reserved just for entertainment. Blitz gauges surround the driver’s seat, and an HKS EVC IV sits above the steering column. It’s possible to control boost, monitor the air/fuel mixture, rpms, and boost without your eyes leaving the road. And if that’s not enough technology to wet your whistle, open the glovebox. Inside, you’ll find an HKS VPC, a Räzo shiftlight conttroller and two more Blitz gauges to monitor the EGT and oil temp.
But the scariest thing of all is the fact that all of this—everything on the car—seems shockingly necessary. GReddy turbo? Yes, we need that. Abflug body kit? Yes, very necessary. Volk Racing SE-37 wheels? Again, an imperative. DVD player? Phoenix Gold amp? Electronics? Check. Check. Check. So save for the two additional visor displays, which would be discarded only with great reluctance, one would be hard-pressed to consider anything in this car overdone at all. That is a frightening realization. That this Supra has suddenly become the threshold of all expectation is extremely dangerous to the future of all wallets. Especially mine.