inspired by ravin a few months ago, i had one of my flow sesions where i just type ideas onto paper. in no way am i trying to copy ravin. ravin's storys are untouchable
im jsut messin around and wanted to know what i should change (besides the unfinished ending
) before i show my friends and make a jack ass of my self. point out any screwy facts about cars or wrong use of terms pleez. i kinda just let it flow.
Its thunderous idle loped through the two a.m air, and the glare of red reflected off the chrome bumper. At the red light it sat, feeling foolish for there were no other cars around to stop for. The main street that had been filled with hundreds of rice rockets, mustang 5.0’s and police cars 4 hours earlier was now a ghost town. Suddenly, a flash of green, and The pilot of the ground pounding big block 71 camaro left the line spinning the 11 inch wide Mickey Thompsons across the intersection. As he let off the gas and felt the TH400 pull him to lower RPMs, his mind drifted back to all the street racing that took place that night at the old highway. Victory. He had never lost a race on his newest motor. A motor built by the best machine shop in town. Set up for a 150 horse shot of nitrous, it was elite in the local street racing scene. As he neared the next intersection, he saw the green light turn to yellow, a yellow that would not remain for much longer. he steadily urged the accelerator, and made the light at the nick of time. As he neared his turnoff intersection for home, he noticed a set of headlights in his rear view mirror catching up to him. They were boxy ominous headlights that pierced through the night. As the vehicle grew closer, he slowed up, not as a challenge to it, but simply a reflex that one gets when he or she has been stoplight battling for a long long time. As it neared his quarter panel, he saw that it was nothing more than a montiecarlo or cuttlas from the 80’s. it pulled up next to him and cruized beside him for a while. The driver of the camaro struggled to see through the windows of the car, but they were tinted to black. Other than that, the car looked pretty much like granny’s grocery getter: chrome headlight bezels, bumpers, grill and moldings, all toped off by heavy looking chrome rocker guards and a leather landau top. a coat of shiney silverish paint covered the boxy figure. “I think my grandma had a car like that”, the Camaro driver thought to himself as he slowed to the stoplight. “Except she wasn’t stupid enough to waste cash on a set of drag-stars like this moron”. Once at a halt, the driver of the Camaro struggled to hear this strange car’s idle over his own. Nothing. “Must be a 305 or something”, he thought to himself as he lost interest in challenging the car. Just as he was about to turn his attention back to the stoplight, he saw white smoke out of the corner of his eye. Could it be? Yes, the silent grandma ride was lightin em’ up! The Camaro driver could not belive his eyes. He simply smiled and flicked his linelock switch. He spun the E/T streets to a roaring 4500 RPM. He pushed the purge button for the nitrous. Two spouts of laughing gas shot out from behind the 6 inch cowl. The air was thick with tire smoke and purged nitrous. “he’s askin for it. Im gonna make this bastard sorry he even wasted his cash on that church torlly.” The camaro driver brought up the tack needle steadily in anticipation of the green light. Both cars rose up in the rear from the building of torque. the big block chevy roared as an ear piercing shriek was emitting itself from the granny ride. Both cars waited for the moment when building power would be released.
They launched, it was an intense race, the Limited T won. The End.
im jsut messin around and wanted to know what i should change (besides the unfinished ending ) before i show my friends and make a jack ass of my self. point out any screwy facts about cars or wrong use of terms pleez. i kinda just let it flow. Its thunderous idle loped through the two a.m air, and the glare of red reflected off the chrome bumper. At the red light it sat, feeling foolish for there were no other cars around to stop for. The main street that had been filled with hundreds of rice rockets, mustang 5.0’s and police cars 4 hours earlier was now a ghost town. Suddenly, a flash of green, and The pilot of the ground pounding big block 71 camaro left the line spinning the 11 inch wide Mickey Thompsons across the intersection. As he let off the gas and felt the TH400 pull him to lower RPMs, his mind drifted back to all the street racing that took place that night at the old highway. Victory. He had never lost a race on his newest motor. A motor built by the best machine shop in town. Set up for a 150 horse shot of nitrous, it was elite in the local street racing scene. As he neared the next intersection, he saw the green light turn to yellow, a yellow that would not remain for much longer. he steadily urged the accelerator, and made the light at the nick of time. As he neared his turnoff intersection for home, he noticed a set of headlights in his rear view mirror catching up to him. They were boxy ominous headlights that pierced through the night. As the vehicle grew closer, he slowed up, not as a challenge to it, but simply a reflex that one gets when he or she has been stoplight battling for a long long time. As it neared his quarter panel, he saw that it was nothing more than a montiecarlo or cuttlas from the 80’s. it pulled up next to him and cruized beside him for a while. The driver of the camaro struggled to see through the windows of the car, but they were tinted to black. Other than that, the car looked pretty much like granny’s grocery getter: chrome headlight bezels, bumpers, grill and moldings, all toped off by heavy looking chrome rocker guards and a leather landau top. a coat of shiney silverish paint covered the boxy figure. “I think my grandma had a car like that”, the Camaro driver thought to himself as he slowed to the stoplight. “Except she wasn’t stupid enough to waste cash on a set of drag-stars like this moron”. Once at a halt, the driver of the Camaro struggled to hear this strange car’s idle over his own. Nothing. “Must be a 305 or something”, he thought to himself as he lost interest in challenging the car. Just as he was about to turn his attention back to the stoplight, he saw white smoke out of the corner of his eye. Could it be? Yes, the silent grandma ride was lightin em’ up! The Camaro driver could not belive his eyes. He simply smiled and flicked his linelock switch. He spun the E/T streets to a roaring 4500 RPM. He pushed the purge button for the nitrous. Two spouts of laughing gas shot out from behind the 6 inch cowl. The air was thick with tire smoke and purged nitrous. “he’s askin for it. Im gonna make this bastard sorry he even wasted his cash on that church torlly.” The camaro driver brought up the tack needle steadily in anticipation of the green light. Both cars rose up in the rear from the building of torque. the big block chevy roared as an ear piercing shriek was emitting itself from the granny ride. Both cars waited for the moment when building power would be released.
They launched, it was an intense race, the Limited T won. The End.
