Quoted By:
You will never be a real MB.5.
You have no Griffon 83, you have no Hispano Mk V cannons, you have no pneumatic brakes. You are a P-51 Mustang twisted by a boomer into a crude mockery of Martin's perfection.
All the exposure you get is because of Reno denizens who don't know any better. Behind your back warbird buffs mock you. Your hangar neighbors are merely content with you, your “mechanics” laugh at your ghastly fuselage behind closed doors.
Brits are utterly repulsed by you. Hundreds of hours of TV movies have allowed brits to pick out replicas with incredible efficiency. Even your best areas look uncanny and unnatural to a pilot. Your square fuselage cross section is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to trick the ramp boss into displaying you for the races, they'll tell you to leave the second they see the proportions of your nose.
You will never be happy. You wrench out a mock taxi every now and then and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you realize you look like nothing more than a botched up P-51 Mustang, withering away instead of being flown, ready to be sold for parts.
Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you will be traded for a normal P-51. You will be parted out for your Mustang parts and Griffon engine, heartbroken when they are let down by your true identity, but happy to accept you as a effortful but flawed replica. Your parts will be sold with North American part numbers, and every customer for the rest of eternity will know they came from a P-51. Your RAF paint will be stripped and reveal your Mustang fuselage, and all that will remain of your legacy is a dataplate for a P-51 Mustang.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no production.
