You may need to invent some new swear phrases to properly express what the 296 feels like from behind the wheel. "Christ on a cracker" was mine. With more ponies on tap than a Dodge Challenger Redeye and a curb weight around 3,600 pounds — one literal 800-pound gorilla than said Dodge — it'd be easy to expect the 296 GTS to be all but uncontrollable, at least by mortals. But the engineers at Ferrari are the automotive equivalent of the dwarves of Nidavellir; they build weapons that not just defy physics, but turn people into gods simply by touching them.
To go full power-of-Thor, click the manettino dial on the steering wheel that controls the whip-smart stability control systems to Race or CT Off, dial the e-manettino in charge of the powertrain settings to Qualify, and click the right paddle to engage manual shifting. The first move releases enough enough slack into the computer's reigns to allow just enough slip to play, but not so much as to spoil the party; the second move uncorks full power from the powertrain, and the third makes you fully involved in the experience. The eight-speed dual clutch gearbox is smart enough to make its own choices, but unless you're going for a lap time, it's far more fun to use the giant carbon-fiber paddles to click through the gears yourself.
Floor the gas, and the power hits like a miracle. There's barely any slip or spin, no sense of the car fighting to control all that energy; it just goes, faster than common sense would have you believe. It’s hard to believe any car can put this kind of power down so well through two wheels on street tires. Sure, that's the same thought I've had after driving Ferrari's 812 and F8, but it still manages to startle every time.
The combination of the electric motor, the twin turbos and the 8,500-rpm redline gives this powertrain a feeling unlike most; practically instantaneous response at almost any engine speed, with acceleration that just keeps on giving and giving as revs rise and the power keeps on coming. The off-the-line performance is as insane as you'd expect — Ferrari's claimed 2.9-second 0-62-mph time feels very achievable — but it's almost more astonishing to drop the 'box down a gear or two then slam the gas at speed, where the full tractability of the power system can be revealed and the V6's engine note — in some ways validating that piccolo V12 nickname with its cry — can be savored.
And the fun keeps going when the turns come, too. The short-ratio steering rack is made for tight, winding roads; you'll practically never need to shuffle your hands around for a better grip, because you can make just about every bend with your mitts still at 9 and 3. There's plenty of feedback and information through the wheel, which is good, because considering the amount of speed it can carry through any curves in the road, you'll want to know as much as you can — and react quickly if need be.
Push too hard through a turn, though, and the result is surprisingly gentle oversteer — a bit of opposite lock brings it back into line and leaves you giggling at the concept of catching slides in a rear-wheel-drive car closing in on the potency of the first Bugatti Veyron. There may be quicker cars on a track, but not many that can beat the 296 on the street — and fewer still that will make the drive feel quite so engaged with the process. It’s a drug, pure and simple — one you crave before you use it, and even more afterwards.
