A friend in HS/College days somehow convinced someone he knew how to work on exotic cars, and had the guys Jag XKE for literally months. Nothing like sitting next to someone in that, as he got it up as fast as he could on short suburban blocks, knowing he was (almost always) stoned out of his mind.
It's a wonder we survive youth.
I have a friend with a Porsche Twin Turbo. He is not a car guy. Knew nothing about the drive train, I had to tell him "Yes, your clutch is gone." when he described obvious symptoms, he doesn't know how to pronounce the name of his car, and can't drive it for ****. But it's fast.