Once upon a race...(a jm story ensues here SNWS)
ONCE UPON A RACE...this LT1 infested monster thing comes rolling up to key infiniti. and i'm inside doin muh thing...
so then i hear this rumble rumble vaa room rumbles cough HIV rumble from outside my door. i choose to ignore it for a while going on about my important business as usual that i have. whoring it up on IA of course, make sure my millions of invisible fans are satisfied. but this douchebag will just NOT go away. rumble rumble vaa room blah blahso i finally get tired of hearing this crap going on in my ear drums, for god sake i would rather hear a 1st gen DSM's OEM cracked BOV with a bear call strapped to it blow off in my ear @ point blank range than hear this poor struggling to keep running as the mullet brigade continues its foot smashing against the weak pile outside..
so i finally crack the door open and what do i see.....
thats right... mullet brigade capt and co capt, sir sausage hands and sir chokesoncox. i couldn't believe it, instantly i burst out laughing b/c the stereotype has all but come true
they look @ me and ask what i'm laughing about, i told him his car sounded faster than it lookedi'm sure i had offended billy bob but seriously, i couldn't help it. @ that moment my friend justin mosey'd out of the dealership (as most import drivers would do after hearing a v8 that sounded like it was going to die, it really is music to our ears) and he started laughing too
i guess by this time the driver had realized that we were import drivers and told us if we though his car was a pile of sh~znizzle that we should race him and find out, now even though i'm confident haley would have been neck and neck (i can't leave my parts counterbut justin was itching for it) so @ hearing that his face changed completely....
bitch say what? oh its on! YOU DONE HASSLED THE HOFF!
i turn to see justin sprinting across the parking lot
do a swan dive into his sunroof
and start the car and what a silly little car it is.
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or for the jm piktorial challenged... and angry kouki monstar!
anyways, FMIC blinging like the cash money in 99 and the 2000, engine purring like uh....uh..... LIGER
thats right a mother fuggin liger in this bish!
the camaro boyz laugh
make a joke like those guys in the 2f2f about cracker jacks or something idk, its hard to hear past those 2 teeth they had. anyways we had ourselves an old fashion show town!
the hotwheels car VS teh mullet magnet
INTERLUDE
AND BACK TO THE ACTION!
the boss man walked in and him being the lord fearing man that he is decided that it was all good and had been written in the books of yor that an import vs domestic race dictated that a passenger must be present on both side so that the race may be judged fairly.
so i paul walker'd myself over to the car and we started back @ them as we knew... this would be over quickly
*justin shut the door on his arm, thats why he's grabbing it*
so we eased out onto teh roads followed by the mullet machine... we could feel their breath of stale bud light and old frito lays permiating our skin... gross. it was like being trapped in that trailer with that pig, remember that one time in super troopers...
yeah i can't find a picture for that one so use your imagination... anyways, we slowed down to a crawl (by crawl i mean anywhere between 3-8 mph) and did the 1-2-3 GO thing... 1st gear.... (thank god for S15 LSD's nuts you bastige camaro) running on him go baby go go baby go! 9 psi and away we g-g-g-g-g-g0000000
we were so epic, i didn't even realize we were shifting through the gears then..... it happened....
we were going to fast we didn't even realize that the camaro was still trying... so we slowed down and go another run in... (mind you this took a while as one can not just go from ludacris speed to stop *you know what happens*)
so we ran again, something about his mullet got in his face and he almost choked on his beret or something idk. so ponytail in place he's ready to roll this time, to be more fair... we hit a 40 roll... we suggest 40-140 (cause thats how those kills forum guys do thing)
so we get going... and all of a sudden we look over and the rednecks look like they are being abducted... looking all around trying to place the sound that they are hearing... oh but wait... i guess they thought that FMIC was a radiator or something, cause they must have never heard brake boosting before
HONK HONK HONK and GO BOOST GO!
the turbo screaming like a banshee outta hell, we shift 3rd....and thats when it happen........
THE HOLY FLAME OF EPIC WIN rained smaller middle fingers of fire down upon our enemy... the camaro caught fire and burned to a crisp, the sounds of the nashing of teeth, and the wailing of redneck voices, asking for forgiveness kamisama, we didn't know these were your chosen ones!
with a final blazing boom the vehicle exploded and rolled to a stop in the bushes off the highway
sadly these words are true, and we lost 2 human beings today....
but that'll teach bowtie bitches to mess around with boosted nissans in my area
NISSAN SUPERIORITY!
Disclaimer:
no rednecks were harmed during the making of this story, stunt rednecks were used, and while the only fatalities were the mullets on our stunt rednecks heads, it true is a sad day when camaros with 6 packs in the back and achey breaky heart plays over the radio in the background of the burning blaze.
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Originally Posted by Nemesis
