3 way battle to get on Page/Section 1!
Team Angus - Chapter Five
Team Angus - Chapter Four
GAR - Chapter 5
8th of October, 1995. 3:15 AM,
We stopped at the first fuel station that was open for business and Ben and I jumped out of the car, popped the fuel tank flap and I set about pumping gas, glad that I chose the 95RON tune, while Ben cleaned the windshield. At least I would have pumped the gas but the bowser pump wouldn’t start! I approached the late night service window and asked the saucy late 20’s brunette manning the station why she wouldn’t let us pump gas. She intimated that the fuel tanker wouldn’t be here for a couple of hours so we’d have to wait…
(OOC: I forgot to add the chocolate factory so I’m using this stop to re-sync with the other racers, sorry!)
Annoyed by this setback I thanked her and turned back to give Ben the bad news. Ben was fast asleep!!! It seemed that the adrenaline he’d been pumping had finally worn off; he was dead to the world… Thankfully he’d chosen to sleep in the passenger seat after strapping himself in so I didn’t have to wake him. I took the forced rest break as an opportunity to check the Bushranger’s oil levels, adjust tyre pressures and clean out the detritus of a long day’s racing.
After about half an hour, I’d just finished these chores when I was interrupted by the service attendant. I was mesmerised as I watched her hips sway as she exited the store and made a beeline to our car. Picture the first Transformers era Megan Gale in a black micro-skirt and a tight Repsol uniform polo-shirt, her hips swaying to the tune of 5 inch stiletto heels, all topped by a backwards uniform baseball cap. Saying something unintelligible in Spanish, she pointed to her name badge, which said Valeria, pointed to me and then said something else, also unintelligible. I let her know, via my Spanish phrasebook, that I don’t speak Spanish… Valeria then made her intention plain; she grabbed me by the shirt, pulled me in close then proceeded to kiss me in a VERY passionate manner! I let Valeria take the lead, as I’m a gentleman and a feminist, which pleased her greatly. Valeria held me close, close enough to feel the svelte lines of her body, then, after what felt like an eternity, she let me go. Valeria then informed me in accented but clear English that I was a delightful kisser and that she was willing to continue where we left off at her place after her shift ended… In six hours!
I had no choice but to decline, explaining that I had a mega important race to run and that I just didn’t have the time. Valeria initially looked shocked, then interested, then thoughful as I finished my spiel. She then asked if she could come along! It turned out that Valeria had a bad rep in her small, insular, village and wanted to escape and she felt fate had brought us together… Needless to say I readily agreed and Valeria jumped into her Fiat Uno, raced home to grab her papers and some clothes then raced back to the station. While Valeria was gone I was sweating bullets that the fuel truck or a customer would arrive but all was quiet. Valeria returned with a swollen duffel bag and an ash grey cat, then proceeded to re-arrange the gear in the Bushranger to free up a seat for herself, as well as make everything easier to access than I could manage.
After some time exchanging small talk between kisses with Valeria the fuel truck arrived, which meant Valeria had to rush to get everything sorted; paperwork for the fuel delivery, phone the boss to quit, hide the keys etc. After the Bushranger was fuelled up we all jumped in, even the cat (named Sooty) and I peeled out perfect 7’s as we left the station forecourt. Valeria had never heard such a racket before, V8’s were really rare in her neighbourhood, but she wasn’t as impressed as the movies would have you believe. We entered the highway, got up to speed, then I found myself alone again as Valeria had nodded off as well as her cat, who chose to fall asleep just in front of the in-car camera! Oh well, luckily there was nothing happening anyway, other than a light rain…
As the highway became twistier I came across our old foe, the grey Chevalier, and I floored it in an attempt to get in front. Unfortunately they saw me in time and kept us at bay. I hadn’t driven the Bushranger before and I found out, firsthand, what a handful it really was. What a pig! This combined with the rain and my relative lack of skill meant that the Chev would keep us from passing them, no matter what I tried…
As we entered the B roads, Sooty suddenly jumped up, meowed loudly and clawed the roof! I looked out and saw a helicopter heading in the same direction as the racers but it didn’t look like a cop unit. Then I was distracted by something more immediate; snow. Of all the things I’d prepped for, I’d forgotten to adequately prep for snow!
Will the snow be the doom of Team Angus? Is Sooty really prescient or just lucky? Will Valeria and Sam be more than just a flash in the pan?
Tune in to the Great Automation Race to find out the answers to these questions and more!!!
TO BE CONTINUED
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First direct-to-DVD-releases, now also viral videos - Team Angus is really WAY ahead of its time!
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Team Marx
Lenin: Well then here be some snow
Marx: can you handle it?
Lenin: of course, it be nothing like the snow from Siberia, this is a piece of cake
Marx: I sure hope you’re right… also that car that was behind us a while back, that T-25 I think it was, it seemed to have flew ahead, remember that cloud of smoke near the start of this stage?
Lenin: yeah, that probably was him
Marx: Regardless, he’s pretty far up the pack now, I don’t think we have much chance getting passed unless he has a critical failure.
Lenin: lets just hope you jinxed him then.
Marx: heck, everyone could probably break down and we’d still be the first ones to get going this car is so simple.
Lenin: Gotta love the communist engineering, huh.
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Just made me realize that the T-25 is only one number away from sharing its name with a WWII Era Soviet light tank. Wouldn’t that be an ironic coincidence…
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Part 4:
Having filled the Breezer’s tank, Sumgit assumed that he should have been passed by a few of the other racers, but didn’t actually recall it happening.
“Maybe they’ve all had to stop as well… I guess that makes sense. Yeah! That’s it!”
He paid for the fuel and ran back to the car, hoping he’d be able to maintain his run of luck. As he pulled back onto the road, he though about the legality of his new… Pole…polzeil…pozleili…STUPID SCANNER! Why were they selling them at a petrol station? Anyhoo…
Sumgit checked his map, (living on the edge, map AND drving at the same time…REBEL!!!) and realised he’d be wasting time.
“I’ll be a really clever guy, and just follow all the skid-marks and stuff. They’ll take me to exactly where I need to be.”
By the time he reached what was left of the chocolate factory, most of the police had left the area (advantages of being 15 minutes late). He quickly worked out which way to get around the mess and put his foot to the floor.
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I know this is very casual forum fiction writing, I’d like to think I’m a gentleman and a feminist too, and I mean this in a good-natured jest, but… somehow I feel that this line would be a strong contender for “most cringey neckbeard forum fiction line of the year” 
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I got a bit carried away with my story and found myself in a rather more personal space than I wanted to be in. I attempted to write my way out of it and that travesty of a line was the result!
Next time I get out of sync I’ll solve a murder or something. Lightweight romantic fiction is surprisingly really personally confronting to write and I’m probably going to drop the whole story thread… 
You’re hardly the first man who tried (even on this forum at that) and you will most assuredly not be the last 
Just looked up the official meaning to the term “neckbeard” and that actually describes me rather well! Unfortunately I was way out of my depth with my Valeria sub-thread and I thought I’d managed to hide my inexperience, albeit rather clumsily… Thanks strop for outing me on my first attempt! 
I’ll now go hide in the corner until the next UE4 update, then everyone’ll be so distracted that I can quietly kill Valenia off! 
This is getting way too meta for me.
Tips fedora internally
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oh shit dude I didn’t actually mean to literally out you as a “neckbeard” 
As a number of us agree, trying to write romance that isn’t 50 Shades of Grey or Twilight cringey is one of the most difficult things to do in writing, let alone in an action-oriented gloriously B-grade racing plot. I tried even getting the prerequisite amount of character development done here (not even for building a romance, but anything in particular) and you saw how that went (15000 words later…)
As you may remember a number of users tried to inject a bit of steam into the BSLL. You could say that went about as well as expected, right?
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Christoforo flung the 330 into the parking lot, scattering the assembled staff and poliziotti, darting through gaps and open spots between the parked cars in a desperate attempt to get away from this mess. Pasquale opened his eyes as they danced through the lot, somehow avoiding a catastrophe at every turn. “There, there! We have to beat that truck turning in here!” Pasquale shouted, pointing toward the only way out of the lot, where a big Scania HGV was starting to lumber into the delivery entrance. Christoforo gripped the wheel and floored the accelerator, launching the small roadster along the parking lot thruway and into a game of chicken with a vehicle forty times larger than them. All Pasquale could do is just hold onto the windshield frame ahead of him and hope the car and drivers don’t get squashed like a bug on the grill of the truck.
At the very last second, the Scania driver slammed on the brakes, blowing his fancy collection of airhorns at the little Italian roadster in anger as the Scagliati flicked right and left, cutting the truck off by mere inches to escape a jam. Pasquale looked back, wide-eyed, at the nearly impossible feat they pulled off and shouted in excitement, clapping Christoforo on the shoulder as they sped away from the chaos at the factory. “Way to go, Chistopez, I thought for sure we were only getting out of that one in a paddy wagon!”
“Well, we aren’t out of it yet Zocca,” Christoforo said, scanning the road ahead of them, “The Guardia is going to keep harassing us if we stay in Spain, we need to get across the border pronto!” Christoforo paused for a moment, scanning the 330’s gauges, “We also need a fuel stop pretty soon too, but not here in Alicante…somewhere quiet along the highway, hopefully!” Pasquale rolled the maps over, looking for fuel stop along their planned route.
“There’s a services by the Ford plant near Valencia, should be quiet this time of day!” With that, the lads sped out of town and back onto the Autovias, pressing on as fast as they dared, considering their recent tussle with the law. The team started to click off the miles and a sense of ease started to find its way back into the 330’s cockpit, finding themselves facing less traffic and less chatter from the police scanner as they roared down the highway at full chat, the 330 performing remarkably well for a temperamental Italian sports car. A couple more fuel stops, taking up valuable time, and a probably wise diversion approaching Barcelona, and the 330 was heading northbound toward the Pyrenees and the French border. Stopping quickly to put the roof up and change drivers, Pasquale heard the sound of beating rotors overhead and looked up, seeing a dark-coloured Alouette flying overhead. He squinted, trying to make out the markings on the little helicopter.
“Hey Christopez, have a look up and tell me if you can see any markings on that helicopter.” Pasquale said over the idling engine.
Christoforo looked up and craned his neck upward, as if the extra inch he gained could somehow help his visual acuity. “It’s dark coloured mostly, but there are some bright bands of colour on it I think…why?”
Pasquale turned almost the same colour as his suit; “Christopez, that’s what I was afraid of. That’s not a police helicopter, it’s the French Army…”
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Notice: chapter 6 will likely delay a day or two more.
Sorry for the delay yet again 
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I feel that with the amount of work challenges require, especially ones like yours, and the fact you’re running them non stop, you might burn yourself out.
Happens with me every time, so my suggestion is to push through with this one and give youself a time out. Nothing wrong with a bit if a delay though, it’s good you keep an open attitude and update us about it. Keep up the good work
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Glad you guys are appreciating this. This will be my last ever Kee engine challenge and the next stop will be UE4, for which I’m organizing and won’t do minor challenges, but two or so major challenges every year. So yes, the pace will be lowered so I can have breaks between stuff and so I can focus on quality rather than quantity.
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Rain falls as the Montauk is approached by the Canny R, as the Montauk hits a turn, the Canny R rips through the inside overtaking them.
Luigi: Dammit!
Blake: Not to worry, I got this!
Blake: Bitch!
Luigi: (starts a raging torrent of Italian profanities that I cannot type as I do not know any)
Blake: Damn, I forgot how much you foreigners are on a different level of swearing than we are.
Luigi: Here, we’re both foreigners!
Blake: Point.
Luigi: The rain seems to have stopped.
Blake: No it hasn’t, it just froze, look.
(White flakes start to appear on the Montauks windshield)
Luigi: Great, I hate driving in the snow.
Blake: Not to worry. I’m a Michigan born man, driving in snow is second nature to me.
Luigi: Then why do I hear about accidents all the time during the winter?
Blake: Because you hear about those accidents year round. The season has nothing to do about it, idiots just can’t drive.
Luigi: Yet you claim to be a good driver even though you’re from Michigan yourself?
Blake: Because of it. Michigan driving requires complete situational awareness. It’s not my driving I’m worried about, it’s everyone else’s.
Luigi: You really notice everything around you?
Blake: Sure, take that helicopter at 3:00.
Luigi: (looks to the right) Son of a bitch, how did I miss that?
Blake: I recognize that one, I saw it earlier.
Luigi: So that’s their angle, the cops are using air units to track us.
Blake: Doesn’t look like a police shopper though, that means it could be two things.
Luigi: Race officials monitoring events?
Blake: That or government operatives working with the police.
Luigi: I don’t like this.
Blake: Keep a sharp eye, we’re not exactly low profile, but at least we’re not the most eye-catching cars in the race.
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Chapter 6: Keeping your cool.
Pyrenees, South France, 14:20PM. 8th of October 1995. 4462km to Athens.
The google maps route can be seen here.
“Looks like we’re having a serious snow flurry here, huh…” - Said one of the meteorologists, tightly grabbing her seat. The gray helicopter veered left and right, inspecting each and every of the peaks of the Pyrenees, following the roads.
“Indeed. Have you sent the data to the station?” - Replied the other meteorologist, coughing between words. “We should send a notice to the authorities so they can cut traffic through the secondary roads. There’s going to be many ice plates on the pavement.” - Concluded the man.
“Sure thing. The temperature has also dropped a few degrees below zero, so it shouldn’t take long for the humidity to become water and then freeze” - Replied the woman, as she took a look at the roads below them. “Hang on, what the heck was that again?”. - Said as she realized the group racing each other.
The driver of the Chaucer was looking at his rear view mirror. With the Armada chasing him once again, the lime green wagon was trying to be faster and faster each and every turn. Its driver was finding it increasingly difficult to keep the car under control as the wheels spun over the fresh ice; countersteering like he never had before, he started braking and heel toeing through the gears to take the next turn.
All of the drivers noticed a sign placed in the right side of the road: FRANCE.
Musical suggestion by @DeusExMackia!
(Special rule! Freezingly cold: the road is icy and snowy, allowing cars with a drivability higher than 0.5 to reroll their failed drivability checks, as they will be easier to control in said weather.)
The narrow D618 was confining the racers, who kept pushing their cars despite the weather and narrowness of the road; sooner than they would want, the first village appeared. In order to avoid it, all of the racers took the left exit of the roundabout, heading for the mountains once again.
Quickly approaching the first few turns, the Dolphine veered left and right, pressuring the driver of the Fatalita. The pressure started building up in the mind of the driver of the latter, thinking the driver of the Dolphine could try anything in any moment. This pressure kept building up and up, until the driver of the italian car made a mistake: braking too late. Hugging the wall, affortunately not suffering any damage appart from a few scratches, he could recover; Xavier, however, had already taken the inside, overtaking them.
“Gotcha!” - Thought Xavier, as he looked the Fatalita on his rear view mirror. It was time to move on to the next car.
Meanwhile, the Kiito had recovered quite a few lost minutes. Drafting behind the T-25, with Jake barking at the drivers, the Biirch kept trying and trying to overtake Otis, without too much success.
“We’re not gonna overtake him at this rate, Teuvo!” - Said Jorma, looking at the massive truck in front of them. “I got this…I just need…” - Replied Teuvo.
Teuvo placed the car in the inside, braking very late; the car wouldn’t stop itself, but he took advantage of the mass of the truck to use it as a pivot. None suffered damage appart from the obvious paint scratches. Teuvo then floored it, effectively passing the truck, who was forced to either brake or lose control.
As the snow flurry gained strength, more and more cars started to want to spin out. The drivers of the F219+35 accidentally bumped the Cannonero, that spun out and crashed into a sign, with some of the snow entering the engine bay. The car wouldn’t start, forcing its driver to go out and revise it, not without cursing the pink hypercar first.
Another accident was caused by Theodora’s Interval. As she pursued the Conquista, she decided to slightly bump the rear, to make it break loose and spin out. And she managed to do so, and not only that: she managed to get the yellow coupé stuck in the snow, it’s driver punching the steering wheel as he tried to get the car out. The Comet GT-R couldn’t react in time, poorly avoiding the stuck car and spining out into snow as well. The driver of the XR-3 drifted around them, mocking both drivers as he left them behind.
The road became more and more technical as soon as the entered the N116. Going through La Cabanasse, hairpins started appearing again. The cars were getting more and more unstable due to the ice plates, and the Bushranger used this to approach the Chevallier. However, the sliding the Johnny and Elliot were fighting allowed them to block every attempt from the Bogliq to overtake them. But they shouldn’t lower their guard: the muscle car was still not giving up, following them closely.
The last overtake, during the last kilometres of the mountain pass, came from the Bandito minivan. With great control, the driver managed to go around the Erin, overtaking them.
With the last few hairpins being left behind, the driver knew they would soon rejoin the main roads; their next waypoint would the French Riviera.
To be continued.
Times spreadsheet:
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Team Marx
Karl: Wow, talk about a snowstorm up here
Lenin: Pah, this is nothing like Siberia.
Karl: True, but last time you were driving something there, you most likely would have been driving a Model T, not a big V8 sedan.
Lenin: No need to worry, the tactics are largely the same. just sit back and watch, I got this
Karl: I really hope you do.
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Cath and Julia’s Slightly Illegal Grand Tour of Europe - Part 4!
Two middle aged women, a boot full of booze and an Erin Scarlet!
–
Cath and Julia were beginning to accept that they weren’t going to be at the front of the pack. Still, after a pit stop and a driver change, they were certainly switching up their driving style as Julia took the wheel on the twisty Pyreneesian roads.
“Bloody hell, Jules, I don’t think the insurance covers this!” exclaimed Cath, certainly conveying her underlying fear. Julia was actually a perfectly good driver, it’s just that Cath thought she was better.
This being the original, Mk 1 Scarlet, there was only very limited traction control. Certainly not enough for deal with mountain roads covered in snow. Still, that didn’t stop Julia push it.
“Jerry loves coming skiing here you know” - Jerry was Julia’s retired husband. “Gorgeous views, and much fewer student gap-year chalet staff members”.
“I thought you were rather fond of the chalet boys?” questioned Cath.
Julia turned to her, and smirked.
Cath tutted, sarcastically.
Just then, a green van came bouncy round the corner behind them, the sound of a snarly V8 blaring out of it. “What in hells bells is this yank doing?” asked Julia, dismissively.
The van, of course, was the Bandito. It drafted in behind them, then made its move once the road was clear, and speed off past them.
“Bloody green yob!” shouted Julia, though that didn’t seem to do anything.
“We really are the slowcoaches here, aren’t we?” said Cath.
Julia sighed. “Yes” she said. “But then again, these views”
“Ooh I know right!” Cath replied immediately. “And I can’t wait to have some actual croissants and none of those Safeway plastic packaged ones…”
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