Introducing The Ford Gemini, The Perfect Vehicle For Whatever The Hell Is Happening Next
ATTN EDITOR: Please consider this copy extremely in flux while we wait for more specifics about the near future. Ha. In the meantime, I tried to cover all angles. Also I haven’t really been sleeping.
DO YOU HEAR IT? THE OPEN ROAD IS CALLING.
It’s saying, “Adventure belongs to those who reach out and claim it.” Or maybe it’s saying, “I can wait! Travel’s probably not the best idea right now!” Either way, the Ford Gemini is here to carry you to the future, a world painted with broad strokes and flush with promise, or possibly a world grey and lifeless and eerily familiar, or, you know what, it’s okay if you don’t want to picture the future right now.
Our mighty six-cylinder, 240-horsepower engine gets you wherever you need to go: whether you’re scaling the Rockies towards an untouched skiing paradise, or racing your anti-establishment neighbor to the closest ER while nearly biting your tongue off to keep from saying “I told you so,” the Gemini will have you there before you start second-guessing yourself, the way you do now with every big decision.
Every journey needs a soundtrack, and six studio-quality speakers will have you grooving to your fave tunes and/or the third revision of that day’s CDC health advisory — always with unparalleled SuperBass™ clarity.
Ample interior seating means room for everyone, when it’s time to shuttle the kids to school (space for friends, too!) or time to drag their asses back home three hours later (sorry, Corey, we’re not taking chances!) when you hear the governor issued a mandate for all masks to be burned on sight. Cavernous trunk space can hold camping gear, supplies for the ultimate tailgate party, or you, after you catch yourself planning camping trips and tailgate parties like nothing is wrong and need to sit in a dark, quiet space and practice circular breathing.
So climb into a Gemini today and take off towards your wildest self. Or stay parked in the driveway, ruminating on how the only thing we’ve learned in a year is that a sense of civic allegiance is apparently reserved for distant places like Norway. Or simply release the emergency brake, recline your seat all the way back, stare at the sunroof and roll the dice. Behind tinted, double-glazed windows you can laugh as loud as you want, even when you start to sound crazy.
The Ford Gemini: the last word in adventure.
Or a word copywriters haven’t thought of yet; a word that means “able to make constant, low-level anxiety appear sexy and fun.” The Gemini will be the last word in that, too. Just please buy the damn car.