The Rolls-Royce Phantom is one of those things that breathes air so rarefied, one's imagination runs wild. It's not hard to envision a factory perched atop Mount Olympus that's staffed by gods turning solid blocks of unobtanium into these individualized rolling spectacles. Remarkably, the Phantom is actually the work of mere mortals. Some are in Germany, the rest in England at Rolls-Royce's Goodwood factory where these cars are hand-assembled with an incomprehensible attention to detail. Massive in form, decadently appointed, stratospherically priced and absolutely, positively unmistakable, each Rolls-Royce exiting this facility is an event in and of itself. The experience is reserved for the select few who can cover the significant cost of entry, but sometimes there are exceptions. Like me, for example. The Car Gods (and the good people at Rolls-Royce Motor Cars North America) saw fit to place a two-tone silver Phantom in my care for a weekend. When it pulled into my driveway, I couldn't help thinking my life had turned into a rap video.