sugar-scoop headlights that once taunted him are now locked

[go z racer, go]

I remember two years ago I was responding to an ad for a 1970 240Z. I arrived ten minutes too late, no surprise either since the "asking" price was $500! I stood helpless staring at the red rocket as the new owner drove away. Ten minute! But, I did manage another 70Z for $640 and that's how it all began.

The owner, a kid, just bought a Honda CRX and wanted nothing more to do with it. I couldn't close the rear hatch because this kid was so happy to see it go he started handing me every spare Z part he had. It was clear he wanted no trace of this car. He carried each part from his garage to the Z like it was road kill. The whole time wearing a smirk on his pimpled pin head like he had just pulled one over on me. Yeah, it needed work, but it suffered more from neglect than old age. I'll confess, I too resembled the Joker as he handed me the pink slip.

It was a nervous 12 mile ride home mumbling "please, oh please just make it home," "please God just this once," I promise to be good from now on God….you'll see.....oh please"... " I'll never...."

Of course the moment I realized I was still moving forward a block from my driveway I dropped the harp and waved a pitch fork as I plotted my revenge on that kid; and his pimples.

I swore (to Satan since I'm sure God is wise to me) that someday soon, I'll hunt down that kid and his CRX. I replayed my extreme 3D Z action packed thriller (not the full version, just the trailer.....blame it on my ADD) in my head as I wrenched away on the Z. It would begin with a close up of the kid fumbling for his American idol CD reaching under his purple/mango/velvet Recaros. The 35 point kevlar harness wont yield the extra inch needed to grab the CD. Suddenly, his satellite dish like ears perk up as they become filled with the unmistakable sound of raw horse power. His head desperately twisting in every direction to catch a glimpse, "where the hell did go?" he wondered. "Where could he be?" , "He's gone, he chickened out...hit and run, well it's the best thing he could have done for himself," he said confidently.

Suddenly there was an explosion! It felt like a bomb setting off right underneath his rice rocket.WOW there it was again! His rear view mirror, now filled, held all the answers and if the head lights gain another inch he will surely lose his triple decker "picnic bench" rear spoiler.

He grabs a hand full of Momo and the tach needle leaps into red. He turns to his mirrors to gauge the damage but the head lights are in fact now brighter, and blinding. No time for plan B (plan B: praying the death mobile chewing away his ninja-aero bumper will soon run out of gas) because the approaching hair pin corner can only accommodate one vehicle at a time. A decisive partition, a testosterone measuring cup, limited by designed to label only two distinctions, "the Men from the boys."

Soon the theory of relativity will reward the victor. It's now. The time is now. The unforgiving hairpin is still yards away, however, it is time.

The CRX tac needle bouncing in and out of the red authenticate to him that this is not a drill. He release his grip from the Momo, it's in fifth now, and with his foot firmly planted on the floorboard there's no where to hide. You just put it all out. For a brief moment, he feels a strange calm wash over him. All the while hauling across asphalt while warped tightly in ton of steel with only four small patches of rubber making contact with the earth.

With fingers crossed he hesitantly peers up at his rear view mirror for truth. He sighs with a mix of joy and relief-no haunting headlights. Glancing to his right he sees his reflection in the glass and beyond an empty lane; not good. The joy is gone. He snaps his head to the left and there she is, doom. Doom is framed against his driver side window.

Like a scene from his worse motorsport nightmare his CRX has given it's all and it's only begun. Helpless, he now watches as the sugar-scoop headlights that once taunted him are now locked and dedicated on the ensuing apex. His memory serves him well as he attaches them to a Datsun 240Z. His old 240Z. Another look to discover my keyboard smile and a good-bye sucker wave and he uncovers the daily double, X gets the square, game over.

Here's when I slow the movie down and move in close to capture his red volcano ridden face in absolute horror as the puzzle is solved. The blur effortlessly pulling away, the blur responsible for his arse whooping was once his.

He will then realize his multiple billboard stickers are all a lie and his chromed - trash barrel - euro tuned - Pee Ditty - muffler was just extra weight for his glorified golf cart. Time for him to seek another religion ...."cut, cut, cut, that's a take everybody."

[turbo240]

great imagery i'll give it a 5/5

plot: also great, action packed if you ask me 5/5

reality factor: could definately happen (scratch that, DOES actually happen)10/5

general impression: its a blockbuster, let me know when it comes to theaters & i'll be buying it when its out on dvd!

[Bambikiller240]

Originally posted by go z racer, go

wearing a smirk on his pimpled pin head like he had just pulled one over on me......I swore (to Satan since I'm sure God is wise to me) ...............purple/mango/velvet Recaros. The 35 point kevlar harness wont yield the extra inch needed to grab the CD. .......... his satellite dish like ears perk up ........... ...........triple decker "picnic bench" rear spoiler. ..........praying the death mobile chewing away his ninja-aero bumper will soon run out of gas) .......... A decisive partition, a testosterone measuring cup, limited by designed to label only two distinctions, "the Men from the boys.".................Soon the theory of relativity will reward the victor. It's now. The time is now. The unforgiving hairpin is still yards away, however, it is time.............. The CRX tac needle bouncing in and out of the red authenticate to him that this is not a drill. ...............All the while hauling across asphalt while warped tightly in ton of steel with only four small patches of rubber making contact with the earth. .........Doom is framed against his driver side window.......Like a scene from his worse motorsport nightmare his CRX has given it's all and it's only begun. Helpless, he now watches as the sugar-scoop headlights that once taunted him are now locked and dedicated on the ensuing apex. His memory serves him well as he attaches them to a Datsun 240Z. His old 240Z. Another look to discover my keyboard smile and a good-bye sucker wave and he uncovers the daily double, X gets the square, game over................to capture his red volcano ridden face in absolute horror as the puzzle is solved............... the blur responsible for his arse whooping was once his...............

He will then realize his multiple billboard stickers are all a lie and his chromed - trash barrel - euro tuned - Pee Ditty - muffler was just extra weight for his glorified golf cart. Time for him to seek another religion ...."cut, cut, cut, that's a take everybody."

With all of these very descriptive phrases, I'm guessing that you write for a Travel magazine, or read too many comicbooks, or porn books!

I like the idea behind the story ( I can relate to it very much ), but with all of the extra descriptive "gobble-de-gunk".... well they detract from the reality of the story.

[turbo240]

bambi, we should start a movie review site. who cares about siskel & ebert, it should be "bambi & turbo at the movies". I can see t now.

[Bambikiller240]

turbo240:

Sounds fine to me! Is a 50 - 50 split on the money OK with you?

Where do I/we sign?

[turbo240]

hell, you can have 60 i'm in it for the fun. maybe we can strike up a deal with nismo, a few shameless plugs here & there & we'll be rolling in goodies! you know a race tuned rb26 could look mighty fine in the 240.

[go z racer, go]

Porn. Porn. Porn, plain and simple. Yes, that's where I get my inspiration from, porn. There are ya happy now?

Boy, am I really that transparent? Man, if you guys can see it that must mean my girl friend is on to me as well. Maybe I should find a better hiding place to stash all dirty my magazines.

I owe you guys one, thanks.

[Bambikiller240]

Originally posted by go z racer, go

Porn. Porn. Porn, plain and simple. Yes, that's where I get my inspiration from, porn. There are ya happy now?

I KNEW that I recognized that writing style from somewhere! Guess I've let the cat out of the bag on myself as well. :stupid: