Throttle nailed the car carries on going round... and round and round again. Neuville catches the final slide and fires the DS3 forward in a lurid drift. All this before we've even started the official run.
"I think the tyres are warm now," he chuckles down the microphone. "I hope you are ready, there is more of that to come!"
He may be in total entertainment mode rather than going for a time, but to watch Neuville's face, hands and feet is quite something. Launch control engaged, we fire off the line, bang up the gears and then then the show begins, his feet working the pedals much like a tap dancer might hit the floor, his arms twirling this way and that but his face never conveying any of the drama that's unfolding.
At every opportunity he donuts the car, yet at no point does it ever grind to a stop. With the car set up soft and on gravel tyres, it's happy to slide, and when Neuville wants to get going again he waits for the right moment and fires it up the road. My brain is struggling to keep up, or even know which way we're pointing, yet for all the smoke and dizzying pirouettes Neuville is never in anything other than total control.
As we flash across the finish line he turns to me. "It's okay, the run to the line is straight now," he grins.
I can just about manage a 'thank you' before I realise what's coming. The road may be straight - and narrow - but Neuville has no intention of driving in a straight line. He drifts the car across the track from side to side, unfazed by the proximity of the straw bales even when he gets so close he kisses one, knocking off the onboard camera.
The ride's over and I wobble out of the passenger seat, reminded again of the vast talent and entertainment value of the World Rally Championship. These cars deserve better television coverage, as do drivers with the talent and personality of Neuville. The vast Goodwood crowds show their appreciation with cheers - if only they could watch the sport more often.