Back in college, my friends and I used to frequent a pretty questionable bar. Despite the luxurious interior, drinks were half the cost of booze at the local dive, intimidating bouncers guarded the door but never checked ID, and dozens of not-so-hidden cameras were trained on usually empty tables.

Still, they made mean margaritas and served up some of the best Tex Mex I've had east of the Mississippi. Their half-price specials were cheaper than congealed heat-lamp pizza in the school cafeteria. To nobody's surprise, with no explanation, the place closed up a few months after it opened. My friends and I all came up with our own theories about what purpose the tavern actually served. Those hypotheses varied only in which drugs were being dealt in which parts of the establishment.

With that amateur sleuthing under my belt, I now suggest the DEA get their dogs a-sniffing over at Nissan headquarters.

Why else would Nissan take a supercar, jack it up about six inches, give it the face of a birthing panda and price it under $20,000? There's only one explanation: The Nissan Juke is a massive money-laundering scheme, meant to conceal losses from a cocaine shipment seized by federal authorities. I'll attest to it, because after a week with the Juke, I can honestly say that I've never had more fun in a new car that cost so little. It's got to be a scam.

Regardless of the drivetrain setup you choose, this thing clings to the road like a sloth clings to a kapok tree, if that sloth were also a cheetah.The tester I drove ($23,980) was equipped in SV AWD trim, which means it came with a continuously variable transmission (CVT) and Nissan's torque-vectoring all-wheel drive, which splits power evenly between not only the front and rear wheels, but also side-to-side across the rear axle. A slew of sensors monitor everything from wheel speed and g-force to yaw rate and your high school GPA to send the right amount of power to each wheel in order to reduce understeer.

Does it work? Incredibly well. No matter how much I tried – and believe me, I tried – I could not get the Juke to lose its composure. Sharp curves? Hit the gas! Wet roads covered in leaves? No problem! Shenanigans in an empty parking lot? Hang on tight! (Just kidding, Nissan.)

The true wonder is that the car handled really well even with the all-wheel drive switched off. Regardless of the drivetrain setup you choose, this thing clings to the road like a sloth clings to a kapok tree, if that sloth were also a cheetah.

I'll go out on a limb and say that for the 99 percent, the Juke is actually a more desirable car than the famed GT-R, whose freakishly low sub-six-figure sticker price is also evidence of illicit activity. The GT-R is stupid fast, which means you have to be smart about driving it. Any time spent on public roads is an exercise in restraint, the likes of which I haven't felt since I discovered a closet full of wrapped presents a month before my fifth birthday. (I got a remote-controlled Pontiac Fiero, in case you were wondering.) Move the GT-R's throttle any more than a third of the way down to the floor and you'll lose your license and watch your bargain supercar get towed to a police impound yard. Fun? Unbelievably so. But you better have a track to visit on the weekends or the workday slog will feel like some sort of medieval penance. The Juke, on the other hand, is easy to enjoy anywhere. Plus, it costs about a quarter as much as a GT-R, which leaves plenty of money for traffic school and increased insurance premiums.

Nissan says the Juke's turbocharged, 1.6-liter four-cylinder is good for 180 horsepower, but it feels more sprightly. Acceleration from a stop is quick but somewhat non-linear, with a surprising burst of power around 3,000 rpm. It's like slipping on a Sleeper-sized banana peel at 30 miles an hour, the result of a late-spooling turbo and a lethargic CVT.

It's plenty peppy once you've got some speed behind you, though. Steering is tight, precise and communicative, and the suspension is just firm enough to keep the car from leaning into turns despite its height. The whole setup feels more like a compact sports car than a crossover, which begs the question: Why didn't Nissan just make the Juke a sedan or a hatchback? It'd be a great Impreza/Lancer/GTI fighter. The room behind the rear seats wasn't all that spacious anyway and the best mileage I could get was 23.5 – far from the EPA's promise of 30 highway, 25 city. Told you it was a drug front.

Luckily, you don't have to look at the front of the car when you're behind the wheel.No money was laundered through the interior design department. It's far from extravagant, yet stylish in an industrial sense. The tester I drove was equipped with red-and-black iridescent upholstery, surrounded by hard black plastic surfaces. All those man-made materials actually felt substantial, even expensive – like a waterproof camera or really nice luggage. The same could not be said for the infotainment system. Graphics on the nav screen were grainy and pixelated, like an early-2000s Palm Treo. Below, a multifunction controller and LCD that Nissan calls i-CON displayed either climate control or vehicle dynamics. Depending on which job was selected, dual-purpose buttons would glow with different labels. It's a good way to declutter the center stack, but the low placement of the screen requires drivers to take their eyes off the wheel to make sure they're turning up the A/C, not turning off sport mode.

I tried to make it through a whole Juke review without talking about its controversial appearance, but I feel obligated to warn you that yes, the exterior is supremely creepy. Every time I saw its eerie gaze I felt uneasy, like I was staring too long at something that shouldn't be seen in public. Luckily, you don't have to look at the front of the car when you're behind the wheel.

Personally, I'm fine with the questionable design as a sales strategy. "You want to go fast for how much? Well, you have to drive that." It's a way to weed out the true enthusiasts from those who just want to attract the attention of the opposite sex. Can't handle the Juke? There's a nice, domesticated Rogue with your name on it.

That just doesn't make much sense as a sales strategy, though, so don't be surprised if your dealer asks you to finance your purchase with crisp, unmarked hundreds from a leather suitcase.

WIRED What's your torque vector, Victor? More grip than a Midwestern handshake. The most fun you can have for under $25K.

TIRED Visage will break your camera and make your eyeballs bleed. CVT lag. Less-than-stellar MPG.

See Also:- From Renault, The 2013 Nissan Juke?