I imagined this car throughout as a young person selling themselves on The Apprentice. I am the DS 3 Performance, Lord Sugar, and this is because I perform. I am not shy, and nobody has called me that, not once, not ever, least of all when I am on a motorway. And I am painted sports red because that makes me faster. And (joking aside, both to imaginary Lord Sugar, and to you, reader), I am actually bloody nippy. I go like I’ve been shot out of a cannon. I have a top speed of 143mph, and you know it, however fast I’m actually going. My emissions are rubbish, considering how small I am, but that’s just the way I like it.

There are three doors and fold-down seats because I take no passengers, unless they are tiny ones, and my boot is very small because I have no baggage, unless you would like me to carry your briefcase, Lord Sugar, which I totally have room for. People might look at me and think “small car”, and I have all those plus points, glamour and buzz; but I’m big where it counts, in my legroom and stuff. Oddment stowage is for wimps. Only pensioners need a place to store their hot drinks.

Apart from drive, drive, drive, my watchword is respond, respond, respond. Just point my nose at it and I’m there. My nought to 60 is mad fast, and other cars can’t touch me – if one comes too close, front or rear, I will make big noises, huge, really, relative to my size – because they shouldn’t have underestimated me.

If you asked me to name my faults, Lord Sugar, I could only really say that I am a bit too exciting, too agile, and people who live in the past might not understand the way I roll. A critical observer, however – Karren Brady, curling her lip – would make the following observations: that I am a bit jumpy, that a ridge in the road knocks my steering off, that I am easily rattled and noisy at speeds, that I don’t feel like a fully rounded adult car, more like a teenage car with defensive narcissism. She would say it is just ridiculous for a car of this size to have such poor fuel economy.

But then she would twinkle indulgently and say this car adds to the gaiety of the road. Perhaps she would say young people need a bit of fun before they get a proper car, and the DS 3 would be waving furiously behind her, yelling, “I’m not just a bit of fun! I’m your For Ever car, Lord Sugar! Pick me!” But secretly it would be chuffed to bits.

Citroën DS 3 Performance THP 208: in numbers



Facebook Twitter Pinterest Photograph: Andy Hall for the Guardian