quote:

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"Driving to work this morning in the old polo 1 litre. Cruising down westside pershore, approaching a crossroads at 100 kph, applied the brembos and crossdrilled disks that I fabricated the night before with my old mans black and decker.

Sitting at the lights patiently, when an audience of 5+ oap's came over to see my ride! Was giving them the eye, when I had heard the distinctive sound of the big bore four echoeing off the buildings.

I glanced left to see mikey "hammerhead" smith pull up next to me! Drat he had the clear indicator conversion, I had to pull something special off to beat him now.

I rev my engine whilst pretend to kiss him to the rythm of my revs. He looked at me, his tightly curled upper lip bristling with a spikey moustache. My ego was on fire, when..oh bugger, the car had stalled.

i reached down to fiddle with the progressive boost controller, but only managed to find the manual choke. I pulled that out anyway, and gee whizz, the car starts.

I was back on form. The gathering of OAPs seemed to be increasing, they seem to be waving there sticks and shouting something. I cant make out what there saying, but they're probably betting for slips..or there weekly pension I cant decide.

I feel my forehead getting hotter so I wipe it with the window demister.

The lights go orange, i see "hammerhead" go for his gears. I rev my car to 10,000+ rpm and drop the clutch, I felt satisfied as the wheels made a screech, I knew I performed a decent take off.

15 seconds into the race and id reached 30, hit second, but something awful happens, the momo gearknob id bought from halfords has slipped off in me hand, im stuck in second and mikey burns off.

..Next time il get him"

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