SPELCHECKISFOSUCKAS
The Smell of burning oil graced my nose as the Sickly anemic 4 cylinder finally fired to life. as i let the clutch out into neutral, i could hear the soudns of the others starting up their rides, to colaberate into one loud racket of 4 tired beat on motors. first there was me. 1990 plymouth laser. 2.0 ltrs of natural asperated, front tire chirping, Clutch Frying, wrist pin buzzing adrinalin.
than there was sean: a primered 1972 El Camino. rusted nasscar wheels with bald radials, turndowns, big Heartbeat Of America sticker in the rear window. the loud chokedup 350 was the loudest among us.
Evan, pilot of his 1980 Toyota somthing or other, had already crept out of the parking lot to get a head start. he would need it with all 60 of his horspower hitting the pavement. the ferarri badges he had aded woried me. it was going to be a tough race tonight.
as i left the large comunity colege parking lot, i heated up my tires........Front tires......NASSCAR STYLE!
as i pulled to the intersection, the toyota flew by me hitting a speed bump at 45 MPH almost getting airborn. the elcamino soon folowed, letting his warn out springs squeal as he hit the bump at equil speed.
BUT WHAT WAS THIS?? another had joined the race. an unknown 77 camaro with large exhaust tips, a large cut up hood with a plastered on scoop and what looked to be a large chevy sticker in the rear window crossed before my eyes. soon as he passed, i poped the clutch and squealed onto the main road. he had me through the straightaway but my light FWD beast caught up in the turn. as the road turned to 3 lanes, i pulled up next to the el camino.
we caught a stopsign.
i did a small burnout to heat my tremendously wide 195 meats. clutch smoke rose as the tires stood stationary. Good, i thought to my self, a hot clutch will stick to the friction surface better....RIGHT?
we left the light, him spining his tires and me grany shifting and not doubleclutching like i should. 2, 3, 4 5 grand. SHIFT!
i crossed the intersection at a whoping 28 MPH as the elcamino pulled away. "thats ok" i thought. "damn domestics! Real racing takes place on a curvy road not a straightaway" as we hauled ass to the corner to make our right turn, i could feel my RPMs raising as the 2.0 buzzzzzed its way to 5 grand. GREEN LIGHT! i hit the turn at 35, Tires squealing for traction. i could see the camaro's ass all the way up the hill as he slowly pulled away. "of course" i thought to my self. "torque rules the uphill, but light weight and balance rules the downhill". DOWNHILL! i slowly started gaining. 30, 40, 50 MPH! almost at the speed limit! 60, 65, and than i slamed on my brakes for the stoplight. as fate would have it, the stoplight gods had placed us in the right order. Camaro vs Elcamino, 80s toyota vs plymouth laser.
the light turned green and the chevys were off in a cloud of blue smoke. the results: Elcamino by 3 cars and pulling.
now it was my turn. i burned out up to the line to heat the hides. GREEN LIGHT
i eased the clutch out so as not to spin. the toyota wheel hopped across the intersection. i got him out of the hole and was pulling. 5 grand, SHIFT. 2nd gear! as i hit 30 MPH, i could feel the steering wheel vibrateing.
was i loosing traction into 2nd ? no. this car is just a pice of crap. as i hit the straightaway leading on to the freeway, i saw a set of tale lights in my rear view. OH NO! i thought as i downshifted into 3rd gear. my car buzzed ahead but it was toolate. the toyota flew by me doin 65 MPH. DAMN! he got me. but only because i couldnt rev past 5 grand. the motor putts up a buzzing vibrating fuss. i think it would throw a rod or somthing.
the results of the Beater GrandPrix GT world cup:
1st place Domestic Class:
70 Elcamino
1st place Import class:
80 somthing toyota w/ ferarri badges.
The Smell of burning oil graced my nose as the Sickly anemic 4 cylinder finally fired to life. as i let the clutch out into neutral, i could hear the soudns of the others starting up their rides, to colaberate into one loud racket of 4 tired beat on motors. first there was me. 1990 plymouth laser. 2.0 ltrs of natural asperated, front tire chirping, Clutch Frying, wrist pin buzzing adrinalin.
than there was sean: a primered 1972 El Camino. rusted nasscar wheels with bald radials, turndowns, big Heartbeat Of America sticker in the rear window. the loud chokedup 350 was the loudest among us.
Evan, pilot of his 1980 Toyota somthing or other, had already crept out of the parking lot to get a head start. he would need it with all 60 of his horspower hitting the pavement. the ferarri badges he had aded woried me. it was going to be a tough race tonight.
as i left the large comunity colege parking lot, i heated up my tires........Front tires......NASSCAR STYLE!
as i pulled to the intersection, the toyota flew by me hitting a speed bump at 45 MPH almost getting airborn. the elcamino soon folowed, letting his warn out springs squeal as he hit the bump at equil speed.
BUT WHAT WAS THIS?? another had joined the race. an unknown 77 camaro with large exhaust tips, a large cut up hood with a plastered on scoop and what looked to be a large chevy sticker in the rear window crossed before my eyes. soon as he passed, i poped the clutch and squealed onto the main road. he had me through the straightaway but my light FWD beast caught up in the turn. as the road turned to 3 lanes, i pulled up next to the el camino.
we caught a stopsign.
i did a small burnout to heat my tremendously wide 195 meats. clutch smoke rose as the tires stood stationary. Good, i thought to my self, a hot clutch will stick to the friction surface better....RIGHT?
we left the light, him spining his tires and me grany shifting and not doubleclutching like i should. 2, 3, 4 5 grand. SHIFT!
i crossed the intersection at a whoping 28 MPH as the elcamino pulled away. "thats ok" i thought. "damn domestics! Real racing takes place on a curvy road not a straightaway" as we hauled ass to the corner to make our right turn, i could feel my RPMs raising as the 2.0 buzzzzzed its way to 5 grand. GREEN LIGHT! i hit the turn at 35, Tires squealing for traction. i could see the camaro's ass all the way up the hill as he slowly pulled away. "of course" i thought to my self. "torque rules the uphill, but light weight and balance rules the downhill". DOWNHILL! i slowly started gaining. 30, 40, 50 MPH! almost at the speed limit! 60, 65, and than i slamed on my brakes for the stoplight. as fate would have it, the stoplight gods had placed us in the right order. Camaro vs Elcamino, 80s toyota vs plymouth laser.
the light turned green and the chevys were off in a cloud of blue smoke. the results: Elcamino by 3 cars and pulling.
now it was my turn. i burned out up to the line to heat the hides. GREEN LIGHT
i eased the clutch out so as not to spin. the toyota wheel hopped across the intersection. i got him out of the hole and was pulling. 5 grand, SHIFT. 2nd gear! as i hit 30 MPH, i could feel the steering wheel vibrateing.
was i loosing traction into 2nd ? no. this car is just a pice of crap. as i hit the straightaway leading on to the freeway, i saw a set of tale lights in my rear view. OH NO! i thought as i downshifted into 3rd gear. my car buzzed ahead but it was toolate. the toyota flew by me doin 65 MPH. DAMN! he got me. but only because i couldnt rev past 5 grand. the motor putts up a buzzing vibrating fuss. i think it would throw a rod or somthing.
the results of the Beater GrandPrix GT world cup:
1st place Domestic Class:
70 Elcamino
1st place Import class:
80 somthing toyota w/ ferarri badges.
