Just got home from the local football game. This one was easy:
We have a great road near me for racing. It'* straight, flat and has nowhere for miles that cops can hide. It is surrounded by cornfields, no ditches, which is great in case of the crazy-car syndrome. The last light before the "raceway" had just turned red when I pulled up. A couple of second later, a lovely riced Mitsu 3000 GT rolls up next to me with the hip hop going strong. So I turned the new Disturbed CD all the way up. He gives me a look and revs. I look down... 1/4 tank of gas, still running with my octane boost from Thursday night, temp down around 185, new oil. I say what the F. I switch off the traction, left-foot the brake, rev to 1900-2000rpms. The light goes green and so do we. By the time we reached the 1/4 mile line (it was painted by the kiddies about a year ago), he was at LEAST 5 cars behind and REALLY pissed off! I continued to keep my foot to the floor for another 1/4 or so and he was just a dot.
I stopped to get gas at the last place before the house, and as I was finishing, he pulled in. We spent a good 20 minutes talking about my Bonnie and his rice. He said he'* never been had by a 4 door before. Guess this is one story that won't get back to his 'hood.