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Discussion Starter · #1 · (Edited)

^^^ Well, gentlemen... the jury has just convened, and reached an immediate verdict. The judgement is unanimous, and the punitive damages are cumulative, emotional and permanent...

Trauma. Pure trauma. "Your honor... I'd like to request a mistrial, sir... you see, I... I... I... was "unaware" of what was happening until it was too late... and, and, and... my "tune" just wasn't quite on....... my tires were cold... and the air temp was OVER 90*.... er.... er.... uh, ahem..."

Sorry son, this is a courtroom, not your guidance counselor's cushy office...

I shot that photo just after the "alleged" incident... just to note that it was not "smoking", nor otherwise worse for the wear... considering the oppressing heat and humidity and extended spool-time... no small feat. ...Makes me wonder what it would have done on a cool day...


I am not a proponent of racing, so first, I must tell you that nothing I am about to convey really happened... ...and none of the characters in this story are real people or cars... simply a sordid array of "figments" of a sickly imagination by he who occasionally claims to be some cyber-ego identified as crisp.


(Advance Auto Parts store)

Walk in with the Solara out front to pick up some battery cables... several people in the store... then two young guys... the quintessential "Mutt n Jeff" duo, walk in... a bright, shiny STI sitting out front next to the 'lara... (ELECTRIC BLUE, no less!) And the larger kid with angst and visions of torque all over his face... tatoos like wallpaper on his HUGE MEAT-HOCK arms... a large STAR tat on his calf. Big, aloof, and generally "car-geekie" looking all over, his sidekick had a jet black greased Vulcan-Spock hair-doo and looked like he played in the "Revenge of the Nerds" as he made a quick purchase and turned to head out the door.

Right as they were going out, the guy at the counter... from the local automotive school ALSO, no doubt, points out a yellow "STANDARD" Lancer passing by out front and mockingly chastises "THAT dude went and put a TURBO in the standard Lancer!!! HA HA!"... and the Ham-hock dude says "heh.... he thinks he's gonna be fast or something... hell, that thing has DRUM BRAKES!" ...then they get into the spankin'-lookin' WRX with the BIG SCOOP and a nice looking piece of tailpipe art tempered titanium hues to die for cocked out the right rear at an outward and upward angle. Brrrrrrrrrrbt' PHHttttbrlurp - POP! Brrrrrrrrrbbbbllllllllbrrrrrrrrrbt' PHHttttttbrlurphhhhhhhht- CRACK, phttttttt......... brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.......

Off he goes, and the yellow Lancer (with the EVO kit) comes back around and makes a "wanting" pass....


Oh oh..... I smell JUVINILIA oozing out of my pores like weeping ivy rash on a red-head in season... "please don't let me use bad judgment... please don't let me use bad judgment..."


I find myself already easing into my drive... the kids are occupied in the twilight hours of sunset... and I have about 40 minutes till it goes too dark to get into some upper digits and still see the DEER... (theoretically, that is...)

"Ummm...... HONEY??!!! I FORGOT the CAT FOOD!" (For REAL! That's the line I used... SUPPOSEDLY.)

I KNOW he headed toward the Super Wally-World... not much else out that way... MAYBE he's still around the lot.... (What is crisp THINKING!!!)

I pick the bag up just up the street at the Tractor Supply Center, where the line will be NO ONE and I can RUN IN, GRAB IT, and get back in the car. I ease into the WW P-lot, and as I complete a full pass around all the parking lot's full spaces... THERE IT IS!

I pull a slow loop to a spot WAY OFF from the store-doors, with my TARGET PREY between me and the exit. ALMOST IMMEDIATELY, I see the monstor-child emerge with his Jughead buddy by his side! I quickly grab my 9-LED mini-torch, and pop the hood, acting as if I'm checking something. (I'm wearing an ELECTRIC BAHAMA BLUE ADIDAS shirt... same I was wearing minutes ago in the Advance Auto store... you'd HAVE to recognize it in ANY 30 minute window! )

They get in, and I drop the hood. Slip into the car, then act a little "occupied", as they seem to be "waiting" back... so they've NOTICE me, and feel the chemistry... that adolescent love-rush like flush you get when aroused by the tensions between two sexy bodies... in this case automotive pheromones of octane instead of testosterone... and they BLUUUURP out of their spot, and head RIGHT in front across me before turning to loop around behind my car, and head out.... but I'm RIGHT in stride as I pull a tight curl and slip uncomfortably close to their tail... (A PACE SETTER exhaust and polished rim wearing primer "gunfighter" body work kit civic goes unnoticed beside us at the light in the adjacent lane...)

As the light goes green... he pulls out QUICKLY to the right, a four lane stretch, that allows him to immediately accelerate WIDE around the pickup in front of him... but I'm a quick stab at the throttle and throwing my tail in a roasting drift as my MKIII lunges forward and grabs second, continuing the sliding drift through a good part of it, then third just in time to get "straight" as I move into the right lane, rush up alongside then sling past the blurrr of pimpled faces staring out the side-glass next to me... and I hold it until I hit fourth only to crack off throttle and hard on brakes to haul down before the Orange Semi trailer up ahead becomes a permanent impression on my hood...

heh heh heh... they are in SHOCK behind me now... as the lane merges to one and I command the pole...


His HID lights bright in my mirrors, I pace contentedly behind the semi... knowing he will turn off into a plant about a mile ahead as we leave town... and we ease up to a steady cruise but I can see he is surging... chomping at the bit... just WAITING for that opportunity to "retaliate", and pull a "loser-victory" pass.

Sorry guys. NOT TONIGHT!

I stick to the semi's ass making sure there is no passing opportunity before he turns off... then a quick STAB at third... and a hard pull that he tries to hang with. I short shift fourth quickly, never getting into the peak of my boost-thrust, and STILL holding the gap. Heh heh heh... I know it's a go now.

Next on-coming car is the LAST for as far as we can see heading into the countryside... I can see the last crossroad, solid line up to the intersection... and carefully space myself between the STI and the car ahead to "hold my mark" until the double-dotted allows all the while keeping this flat-six-box-rocket from poppin' his cork like a premature money shot off camera...


4,000 RPM coming up in third gear, and I nail it as I signal my pass, and he's right on cue. Quick rush to the shift, and fourth.... Ahhhhhhhh... FOURTH!!!

My haunches compress... a distinct thrust forward that seems HARDER than the 2-3 transition... and a HARD RUSH ALL THE WAY to fifth... where I keep it pinned till I'm sweeping thru 140... still under bold acceleration... and glance back at the 20 plus lengths I have quickly opened up on the STI... Ahhhhhhhh.... now I truly know where I stand!

I let it coast back to about 100 for a few seconds... and he's HARD ON coming up onto my tail... but before he can "pop out"... at about 5 lengths off... I hit it again in fourth... and carry it right up to illicit territory once again, then hold it to the floor in fifth as well and watch him disappear in the distance behind me, his twinkling projectors... a glimmer of the great "Racing KILL" post I must now conceive!

Truth be told... that's about as accurate as it gets... and the kids car was actually pretty respectable, too.


NOTE: I re-wrote this story a bit from a prior post several years ago in a Solara Forum I frequent. Hope you guys don't mind... but I read a Pale Horse thread and was compelled to join in!:D

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Nice! :D
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