I have no real depth of knowledge when it comes to monster trucks. Near as I can tell, after seeing them on the TV, it seems to be a matter of mashing the gas and aiming. Thanks to this nifty little Xbox game that landed on my doorstep called Monster Truck Championship, I now have a much better idea.

It works like this. You mash on the gas . . .

. . . and then, seemingly very far away from you, two toilets flush simultaneously, dumping about eight gallons of high-test into a supercharger the size of a microwave that’s bolted to a block the size of a washing machine.

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Like a Flintlock Pistol

The resulting eight successive mortar blasts fire pistons as big as a man’s thigh and with near-diesel levels of compression up navel artillery comparable bores, transmitting crushing levels of force through femur sized con-rods to a crankshaft that has to be out of an ocean-going tug.

Then there’s a clutch in there somewhere and a bunch of whirling transmission bits and such. Then onto drivelines – one fore, one aft – before finally what your foot asked for anywhere from 0.000001 seconds to 71 hours earlier is transmitted into the dirt via tires the size of hot tubs.

You ever fire a flintlock" ItR...