Meanwhile at the TSR Pit Stop
Takumi: 28th position huh? At least we weren’t last and did not blew up the car. Still running great. The car is suprisingly durable.
Katana Racing Team: Well, we’ll do better next time.
Takumi: Those cars are fast and their tuning are insane! We’re not on par with their tuning skills.
Katana Racing Team: Our only hope is corners. Otherwise, we’re dead.
There was an issue with the spreadsheet, thing is calculation wise everyone ran the last laps without fuel so no unfair advantages were produced. I fixed it and everything will be back to normal for race 2, I apologize for it 
Damage 2 is also medium damage, without forcing the driver to drop out of the race and applying a performance reduction.
EDIT: Apparently the spreadsheet malfunction has caused unfair advantages. I will correct the results and edit the Daytona 500 accordingly. I apologize for the spreadsheet not working properly.
Results have been updated in the Daytona 500 post.
Interviewer: Dan Kowalski here for IWRC Sports, reporting live from Daytona International Speedway after an exciting race. We’re here with Lee Dermott. Glad you could join us Lee. You finished sixth, scoring three points. How do you feel about that?
Lee: Always a pleasure, Dan. Obviously it’s great to finish in the points but for a racer it sucks not winning. But we were realistic and didn’t expect to win. We’ve got a first time ASCAR engine manufacturer and that rarely means winning in the first outing.
Dan: Your driver Mike Connaughan had a decent qualifying that put you on seventh and he managed to finish one higher in the race. Are you a bit disappointed the team couldn’t capitalise more on it?
Lee: A bit, but the field is just too tight and competitive. Mike’s driven very well today but as we’ve all seen, the leaders are half a second faster a lap. I think we will have to bide our time and hope to capitalise on their mistakes.
Dan: You mentioned the engine Lee, how do you feel about it after the first race?
Lee: Very happy Dan. I was a bit concerned because it looked down on power but it held the whole race, didn’t guzzle more fuel than the rest and could keep up quite well. We will have the engineers in a small event to show their work off, now that the season’s started.
Dan: That’s going to be very interesting for all the technical minded fans, for sure.
…
Dan: We’re here with Marcel cough Niggemeyer, head of the RM Sports program. We’re going to look at and talk about the engine. Marcel, what were the challenges designing that engine and what did you put your focus on?
Marcel: We aren’t used to build push-rods but we thought it was going to be a nice challenge. You know, we went through about six designs before we settled on the one we have. Weight, power and efficiency were all major concerns.
A lot of people are probably concerned about the fact it is down on power compared to the competition in front but they shouldn’t be. We had a 423 HP engine but the additional power wasn’t worth the weight and fuel consumption. You know, in an effort to combat weight and improve the weight distribution we went fully aluminium and decided on a flat crankshaft…
okay phew, glad that was sorted. Not coz the results changed, of course, just that now we can say things should be running right!
Also tagging @Rk38 in this because while I did the tune, I did almost none of the design due to computer and time constraints, hence I can only say mine was an extension of god’s work 
Dale R. Thomas could scarce believe his fortunes. Just the New Year gone by he was drowning his thirty two years of regrets in Coors Light, having gone from dead-end job to waking up too late to realise his dream of being an ASCAR driver, scraping the bottom of his barrel only to find no way in Hell could he buy his way into the circuit, let alone get a car of his own ready for the Sunday Sports Car Cup. But a couple weeks later, a mysterious phone call changed all that. The offer was mighty suspicious: a brand and a team he had never heard of, possibly British Communists, what could possibly be worse!? His family and his neighbours told him not to do it, that would be positively un-American. But his girlfriend convinced him that beggars couldn’t be choosers, and this was his one last shot at glory and all he had to do was Pray and Believe. Possibly she just wanted him off the piss for a bit, coz he got real ornery when he was drunk.
Now, on a Sunday afternoon, caked in sweat, clad in the most ridiculous yellow and blue outfit, adrenaline pumping through his veins, those troubles were a world away from him. There was confetti and cheering and the sheer roar of the crowd and the buzzing in his ears. There were microphones thrust in his face. There was a giant goddamn trophy. All of these things beyond his wildest hopes and expectations.
“YAAAAAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” he whooped, waving his arms around and almost punching a crewman in the face. “NOW THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKIN’ 'BOUT!” He slicked the sweaty hair from his face. “I wanna thank all y’all, my crew, the team, the organisers, and my beautiful girlfriend, Tammy. I wanna thank the Lord, for blessing us and this great nation. U S A! U S A!”
The irony of his chant was not lost on the crowd. Half of them started booing his act of treason driving for and even making a British Communist team win, as the other half started cheering for his obviously unwavering patriotism. Fist fights broke out in the stands. Beer and hot dogs flew everywhere. It was glorious and squalid all at once. Dale, for that matter, was oblivious. Right now, he couldn’t care less if the Devil himself had sponsored him, because he was finally a real ASCAR driver and a winner.
From the other side of the Atlantic, Arthur “Ableman” Herrington, founder of Armada Motors, embattled and buried up to his armpits in outstanding fees and threat of legal action from all his dumb moonshot programs, allowed himself a hearty chuckle. For exactly as long as young Dale had been alive, he had yearned to make a conquest in motorsports across the pond, but had failed miserably. It was just all so very different to what Armada had become, what with big beefy cars and V8s and pushrods, where Armada stayed small and light and technologically daring. But the purity of hitting everything with a sledgehammer had a special place in his heart, for his own origins of the boys in the shed. Now, however, the fruits of his team’s labours might finally bear fruit, as unusual as his bedfellows might be. And if nothing else, after 3 decades of struggling in the midfield as far as American motorsports was concerned, they had their first, vital win.
“That doesn’t look like British motorsport,” professional bean counter Graham Streeton remarked as he entered Arthur’s office to inspect the paperwork.
“It’s not,” was Arthur’s smug reply. Graham, Arthur’s long time friend, studied Arthur for a moment, knowing something was up. He stared at the TV again, at the oval, at the redneck pumping his fist on the screen, at the cars, and his eyebrow twitched.
“Why does that car have Armada Racing on its livery?”
PITNEY-BAKER AUTOSPORTS
Roberts rolled his car off the banking with a sharp crackle from the roaring 360 and a short scraping sound as the low bodykit made sweet, crispy contact with the surface of that hallowed ground.
He gripped the wheel with a certain focus not seen since his dirt-racing days and maneuvered the big purple sedan into the pit box where the higher-ups of the ASCAR program were waiting.
“Great racing Luke” grinned Wilson Pitney, the enigmatic tyre changer who found himself legally in command of a race team after the last team finally gave in to the demands of their creditors.
Luke smiled back, sure the car was a thirsty hog that was only good at chewing it’s own tires into waste, but damn if the boys hadn’t done their best and, even if they had basically lost, everyone was standing around smiling.
“It’s a great car boys” he called out “If we can fix this fuel consumption then one day she’s gonna be one heck of a great NASCAR!”
The group cheered back, sure the ASCAR team was seeming dead in the water, but damn, you only stop learning when you’re dead and this was some key time for the team to do some serious learning!
@Mr.Computah minor issue it’s actually the called the Celento, not Celero but otherwise what a race! Thanks to @strop for RP and for the masterful tuning…anyway here’s the proper reveal for the team.
Maesima Armada Racing officially unveiled their entry into the first season of the 1987 ASCAR at the debut race at the iconic Daytona track. Presenting the ASCAR Maesima Celento, race-derived version of the companies critically production Celento car. While it sits on a custom Ebola AR87/NV9 chassis with an off the shelf engine using some Maesima derived components and tuned in-house by the specialists at Armada Racing.
The idea behind the Maesima’s entry into this sport was curious one that came about due to a chance encounter between Maesima’s US import operations Director David R. Clark and Armada’s founder Arthur “Ableman” Herrington. Using a combination of cunning and off the shelf components, the pair were able to slip by the bean counters and official sanctioning from Maesima’s homeland. The idea seemed quite insane to any reasonable person, taking a clearly communist brand into one of the most patriotic of all American motorsports. Yet against all odds, this motley crew put together with Clark scraping together all the fund he could acquire both personally and from the brands’ sales. The stakes were high.
Clark had been operating Maesima’s US operations since 1982 and saw that while the Celento line of vehicles certainly offered ‘Value Assured Motoring’ the company desperately lacked brand recognition or any type of halo vehicles. Despite his many attempts to get the NRZ-976 into the country. The brand was left with only the NV-982 or Celento. His earlier efforts with the Trail-Trek two door outdoor wagon variant proved disastrous with poor reviews and even worse sales. He really needed this to work out. By offering a race variant Clark was betting it all on a ‘win on Sunday sell on Monday’ strategy. While the actual production Celento shared nothing with the race version being a budget front wheel drive, 1.5-2.0 inline four offered only as a sedan, liftback, wagon, and the infamous trailtrek two-door outdoor focused wagon. Now it all rested on this humble communist budget sedan taking the fight right into the head of the free world.
Manufacturer : Maesima
Team : Armada Racing
No. : 7
Chassis : Ebola AR87/NV9
Engine : Maesima MC-MM 5900 V8
Driver
Name : Dale R. Thomas
From: Corpus Christi, TX 78476
Age: 32 years old
Gender: Male
Crew Chief
Name : Mike J. Barnett
From: Huntington Beach, CA 92648
Age: 42 years old
Gender: Male
Edit: Bonus RP
Watching the event from a crowd, David could hardly believe his eyes as he saw the Celento fly past the finish line in first place. It worked it actually worked! No sooner was had he felt the joy of success did he notice the mood of the crowd turn against his car and driver. His joy turned to fear as he quickly slipped his Maesima branded hat and tags into his jacket as he made for the exit. Clearly there still some marketing needed to win them over.
Making his way over to the drivers’ lot David saw the meagre driver’s trailer for the Maesima Armada Racing team swarmed by an angry mop of god fearing, commie-hating patriots. In a bizarre spectacle, they threw their wieners and cold foamy liquids at the trailer. A sight that disgusted David. After some persuasion and considerable effort, He pushed his way into the trailer.
“That’s a hell of a thing you’ve started here,” David said with a smile.
“Whoa, now this,” Dale said point to the crowd outside and a strange picture of a snake with the words ‘commies get out’ on it’ “is your fault…you god damn commie”
“Hey now, don’t be like that” David replied calmly putting his hands up defensively “We’re in this together now.”
Grabbing a Coor Light from the fridge. David continued, “y’know this looks bad right now but this win could set you up for life, as far as I’m concerned, a true American hero…and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise kid.”
The next day when David made his way into the office with unusual delight despite the long night of celebrates. He was instantly met with an influx of calls from his sponsors asking offering even more lucrative deals, dealers requesting limited edition ASCAR trim variants, after sorting through the deals.
He took a look at the preliminary sales reports for the Celento this month and noted a marked uptick in sales. win on Sunday sell on Monday he thought with a smirk as his lit his lucky stroke cigarette.
“Margaret, could you make sure we send proper thanks to the fine folks at Armada Motors, and to Mr Herrington in particular”.
Meanwhile across the Pacific, in the dark smoky corridors of the Ministry of State Security. Intelligence Officer Cho Nam-gi sat at his desk reviewing a curious report from one of the Democratic Socialist Republic of Anikatia (DSRA) US embassy intelligence and diplomatic staff. Taking a sip of his warming tea Cho noted the unsanctioned usage of a certain state-owned brand within a popular US Motorsport.
Cho dutifully inspected the photographs from the event clearly showing the Maesima name all over this brightly coloured vehicle. While unlike anything he’d usually checked the information highlighted just how easily the US could be influenced by foreign nations.
Looking at the results surprised the jaded Intelligence Officer, from his many years he’d come to doubt anything from the state propaganda. Yet here the performance of this state-owned brand over capitalist rivals. Lent credence to the claims of socialism strength over the West wasn’t all just lies. Still, those behind this suspicious unsanctioned racing efforts were to be placed under immediate surveillance to find out what exactly they were planning…
Buddy O’Brien sat in the waiting room, reclining back into the supple Italian leather seats, quietly in thought. His mind couldn’t help but replay and repeat the last race, picking up all the small mistakes he had make and the opportunities that he had not taken. He sighed, there was no question about it, nothing he could have done would have made much of a difference. Sure, he may have overtaken one or two more cars, or gotten the jump on another driver through a more strategic pitstop strategy, but even had he driven flawlessly, he still estimated that he couldn’t do better than get into the teens. The car just wasn’t competitive enough around the oval.
Don Birmingham watched Buddy, wondering how he could be so calm. He hadn’t known the man for long, but he had picked up very quickly that the man could race, and knew enough technical details to be able to advise the race team on issues or problems with the car. Don looked down at his notes for the umpteenth time, fidgeting and fighting the urge to go to the toilet again. He knew that the car had its weak points, he knew there were areas of improvement, but the feedback and critique from Buddy and the rest of the racing team was blunt, albeit completely true. The car was nowhere near competitive and just couldn’t attain the pace of the front of the pack. Don had spent the last few days racking his brain, but he failed to come up with any solution to the problem. He had completely underestimated the competition, and the car would need to be reengineered from the ground up.
The door to the waiting room opened.
“Excuse me gentlemen, please follow me. The Director will see you now…”
(Note: lore wise this race takes place the Sunday following the Daytona 500.)
Laps 1-35
The cars came out of the last turn just to see the green flag being waved at them. Growling through their gears, Titcomb and the Scorpio got the first and second places respectively as they dived into the first turn; following them closely was the Tariuz, with no real chance of overtaking them but keeping up nevertheless; the next pack was opened by the National, followed by the Traveller, Usurper and Colosseo.
As the laps were quickly completed, Ross overtook the Cannonball Special, which was then overtaken by Sivutuuli and Bonkarenko as Titcomb got too confident and understeered out of the track for a few instants. Blad Bolovic put the pressure on the ACA Traveller in ninth place, trying to set up to overtake later. The first wreck of the race happened when the Dragoon lost control and oversteered into the wall. A yellow flag was raised in lap 4, with the pace car coming out for two laps.
Behind the Special, the Celento and the Radiant were back at their rivalry, like unfinished business from Daytona; some paint was shared but the Maesima held the line and its place. The next pack was composed of the Colosseo, GBSC and Senator. Some paint trading between the two former cars allowed the Sinistra to take the place in the chicane, taking the inside before any of the other two could even react, which gave Luke the fifteenth place. A series of mistakes made the Tariuz lose place after place, falling to eighteenth place; it entered the tarmac back before being passed by the next pack: the Barrier, the Darwin and the CTFM.
As the end of the first stint came closer, the Saber overtook Fußmacher in turn 1, taking the seventh place. The MSL didn’t give up, however, keeping up with the Stallion. Closing the grid were the Regal, the Birgmingham, the Bugbear and the Bromine.
Laps 35-70.
The Scorpio held on to its lead, now harrased by the Dermott. Fußmacher managed to sneak into third place, taking it from the Amerigo which had no choice but to let the MSL through to avoid an accident. The Radiant and the Celento were clamining places back as well, and the Maesima managed to place itself in front of the Shromet during one of the maneuvers, taking the inside of the chicane and forcing Biffle to go wide.
Not many changes took place at the backpack; the most notable incident was in lap 65, when Titcomb, lapped by Oliver Ross, decided to bump the Scorpio, sending it towards the outside and into the tyres; however the driver of the Special lost control as well, spinning out into the tyres too. A yellow flag was raised, which lasted a lap before the race was restarted.
Laps 70 - 105
With the Scorpio and Cannonball out of the race, the Dermott was in the lead, with the MSL in second place and threatening to overtake in any moment. The National and the Usurper were third and fourth, changing places back and forth, with overtakes in any turn possible. In the midpack, the Radiant kept its place, but the Celento lost its place to the Maverick due to a poorly set up corner, that allowed the Bogliq to have more momentum at the exit of the turn. The Colosseo, behind them, was trying to overtake the Archer while resisting the multiple attacks from MacRoye, which couldn’t overtake the Vitorino in the end.
The Senator was still going up places, now overtaking the Eezeemove and setting up behind the Darwin. Luke decided to hold back for now to fool the driver in front later on.
Laps 105 - 140
The Bogliq Maverick overtook the Usurper with some paint sharing in the process, claiming the third place. The Saber kept its seventh place, with the Amerigo pressuring from behind, while the Sinistra won another place, now placing itself behind the Colosseo, which had also been overtaken by the GBSC. One wheel nut could be seen coming off of the Archer late during this segment.
Laps 140 - 175.
The MSL kept trying to increase the pace again and again, hoping to catch Connaughan, which was still in front of the grid. The Usurper, wanting to recover its third place, bumped the Bogliq, sending it off the track but not taking it out as Vlad regained control of the vehicle and rejoined the race; he had been overtaken by the Traveller and the Saber, however, as well as the Usurper and the Champion.
The most notable events happened in lap 143, when Dunner was warned by radio that his front right wheel was loose; instants later, the wheel came off the car and ended up stuck in a tyre rack, with the Archer having to drop out of the race. The yellow flag was raised, but another accident was yet to happen in the same segment: the National’s front left suspension arms broke, making Peech lose control of the vehicle and having to emergency brake outside of the track. Forced to brake heavily due to the accident, the Maesima lost a few places before the yellow flag was taken out again, for two laps this time.
Laps 175 - 200.
Sadly the last stint of the race was mostly uneventful: the Dermott tried to overtake the leader a few times, failing all of the attempts, with the Celento crossing the finish line first.
Race results:
Championship standings:
1.Dale R. Thomas (Maesima Celero). 40 points.
2.Joseph Biffle (Shromet Radiant). 25 points.
3.Mike Connaughan (RM Dermott). 18 points.
4.Ayrton Wallace (Grehet Mytheme). 15 points.
5. Marc Donovan (Stallion Saber). 8 points.
6.Oliver Ross (Maine Motors Scorpio). 5 points.
7.Michael Fußmacher (RAM MSL). 3 points.
8. Luke Sinistra (Sinistra Senator). 2 points.
9.Vlad Kostyrov (Deshevo). 2 points.
10.Martin Hollerhausen (Eezeemove CTFM) 1 point.
11.Eric Jonrosh (LMC Ares). 1 points.
12.Ryan Mitchell (ACA Traveller). 0 points.
13.James Dunne (JHW Archer). 0 points.
14.Adam Spront III (RCM Regal). 0 points.
15.Maxine Smart (Oldman Darwin). 0 points.
16.George Titcomb (Cannonball Special). 0 points.
17.Daniel Rodrigues (Vitorino Colosseo). 0 points.
18.James Peech (Wallys National). 0 points.
19.Marvin Callaway (Birmingham 6000). 0 points.
20.Danielle MacRoye (GBSC V590). 0 points.
21.Tuomo Sivutuuli (Amerigo Champion). 0 points.
22.Vlad Bolovic (Bogliq Maverick). 0 points.
23.Barry Bonkarenko (PMI Usurper). 0 points.
24.Luke Roberts (Allendale Barrier). 0 points.
25.Buddy O’Brien (IOS Dragoon). 0 points.
26.Hruck Bugbear. 0 points.
27.William Moore (Bramble Bromine). 0 points.
28.Takumi Kakayama (TSR Fallwing). 0 points.
29.Parizon Tariuz. 0 points.
Times spreadsheet (hosted in Google Docs):
At the TSR Pit Stop
Takumi: Damn it! Not a single point is earned.
Katana Racing Team: I guess no luck today either. ****!
Takumi: At least the car’s still ok…
“So, from 25th in Daytona to 7th today, how do you do that?” the Reporter asked Luke, leaning into the cockpit of the #66 Sinistra Senator.
“Simple. My car is set up for acceleration and cornering, not so much for pure straight-line speed.” Luke replied, giving a light smile. “One might say we had our focus set the wrong way for simple left-turn oval tracks, but I think it’s the right kind of bold move. We’re not going to win, after all. I don’t know enough about pushrod engines to tune this V8 until it sings, and I can barely keep the back-end behind the front end at the best of times, but we’re making a statement.”
“And that statement is?”
“That you can have fun trying something you’ve never done before. Keep in mind, I’m 60 years old, but this, this is fun. Sure, the car’s all sorts of wrong, but there’s something special about roaring down the main straight with 28 other cars all around you. Sure, our car can’t win, it’s not tuned enough to beat the other teams, but I’m making sure to have fun.”
“So, about that pass early in the race, how’d you pull it off?”
“Ah, the one with the Colosseo and the GBSC. They were busy battling each other, trading paint, typical racing stuff, and I just snuck up the inside into the chicane. My car turns right as well as it does left, so I just squeezed right on by. About the most spectacular pass I made all day.”
“And passing the Eezeemove?”
“Just a pass. Drafted it down the straight and shot around it when I got the chance. Keep light on the gas to make the other driver, the one in the Darwin, think I didn’t have the power to pass them.”
“So that’s how you squeezed by them. And you say you don’t have racing experience?”
“No experience in stock-car racing, at least. The key is to listen to your spotter and your crew chief. One’s telling you about track conditions and the other racers, the other’s paying attention to your car. They’ll keep you out of trouble, and that lets you focus on the race.”
We’re having more problems, while the spreadsheet hasn’t suffered any problems this time apparently split 3 wasn’t a flying lap of the track. I’ll have to check if changing it to flying lap changes the results, hopefully not. Sorry about this once again, I’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again.
RESULTS HAVE CHANGED. I’LL POST THE CORRECTED ONES IN THE POST.
“How was the race?”
“Could have been worse, i mean 16th is not great, but not horrible either”
“And the car? You rocked it on Daytona last week! How is it on the slower course here?”
“Definitly worse, i have to say… missing downforce and acceleration… but that durability is just insane! Trading paint all over the place and it kept running like a dream!”
“Well at least there is something we can hope for… The opponents breaking down…”
“You´re right. Something is still bether than nothing…”
“But getting more specufic here. How did you lose against the Sinistra??”
“First: as i told before… acceleration is missing… it is good for a fist ever season, but not enough to outpace the others on the slower tracks…
Second: My driving, to be honest. Somehow, i was dumb enough to leave the space open for the Sinistra. That was my fault… [looks across a few stalls over to #66] I am gonn getcha sometime…”
“Well, at least we have a point from Daytona.”
“Jepp. That singular point might save my ass later on. But i gotta leave. Training for fuel efficient yet past-paced driving”
“Have a good time there, Martin”
“Bye then”
[rolls of in the #38 Eezeemove CFTM]
This was a permitted record of a post-race-conversation between the Crew Chief of EZR and their driver, Martin Hollerhausen
The Anikatian government categorically denied that it had interfered in the second race of ASCAR’s 1987 season. A government spokesman Song Chung-Ho, said the current problems with the track provided “no substantial evidence” of Anikatian meddling, and that there were “no indications that the Anikatian state could have been involved.”
“We deny these problems have anything to do with us. It could have been anyone’s fault, really.” Song added. He suggested the problems were in no way related to the nation or its collection of clandestine operatives whose very existence is vehemently denied.
“There are no indications that the Anikatian state could have been involved in this and there can’t be any. So we still insist, we think such evidence lacks foundation, Anikatia has never interfered, whatever you may have heard of us is nothing but the product of anti-Anikatian hysteria. We vehemently deny everything.” Song insisted.
Pale as a sheet, Arthur gingerly placed the phone back upon its receiver. He furtively glanced up at Graham, but to no avail, Graham was already fixing him with a vexed stare.
“Arthur, explain to me now. What on God’s Earth have you landed Armada in?”
Arthur wasn’t sure what to say. He took a breath in, only to stop. No, it wasn’t him who was stopping, it was his chest. He couldn’t move, it was like an elephant was sitting on his chest. Grasping his shirt, he struggled, only realising too late what was really going on, then fumbled for the pills in his pocket, and popped one under his tongue. Several agonising ticks of the clock later, the pressure in his chest abated, and he gasped for air. The drama was surely going to kill him one day.
“Honestly Graham, I don’t know yet, but I can promise you this, it’s definitely the last time.”
“So, Bill, this isn’t going well” The calm tones of Samuel Moore rang through the silent office in Bramble’s US headquaters.
“That’s an understatement Dad” was the reply from the man infront of him, struggling to find a silver lining to the whole, for want of a better word, debacle that was Bramble’s ASCAR program. A sole point would have been nice, but even that was proving impossible, the car just not having the pace or agility to challenge for the positions.
“At least we didn’t retire”
Bill’s hit the nail on the head, at least the car can go the distance thought Samuel, wondering if there was anyway to get the Bromine’s sale’s up. Perhaps we can turn to that trait…
“Good point Bill, go out there and do as well as possible, but just remember that you’ve only got one life”. Samuel’s misgivings weren’t for nothing. The Evo I version of the bromine had had it’s aerodynamics cut off, and despite the boffin’s saying that this improved control and performance, Samuel wasn’t so sure.
“I know Dad, you look after yourself, and I’ll be fine” William closed the door, leaving the office silent once more.
Just after the Conke Cola 100
Pitlane, end of cooldown lap
Vlad “The Impaler” Bolovic aggressively pulls into the pits, wildly gesticulating…
VB: “Bastard! That son of a bitch cost me third!!! I’m gonna cave in his skull with my bare hands!!!”
Vlad goes to storm off down the pitlane but, at the Crew Chief’s command, is restrained by the mechanics.
CC: “We know Vlad, you did stellar out there, but you going off half cocked will only see you get punished! The teams legal staff are filing a formal complaint right now…”
VB: "But he could have killed me! I was lucky to keep my Maverick off the wall… I want to make him pay for what he’s done!!!
CC: “We all do, don’t worry, but a physical confrontation is not what we need right now. Let the lawyers deal with it.”
VB: “Ahhh, OK!!! I’ll let him off this time… But if it happens again I’m gonna rip out his liver and feed it to the seagulls!!!”
CC: “Riiight, now come over here and sit down, relax and drink some nice cool water… Breathe, in and out, and all will be OK, you’ll see”
Meanwhile
@Mr.Computah, Head of ASCAR’s driver tribunal
RE: Unsportsmanship conduct by Barry Bonkarenko
Dear Sir,
In regards to the unsportsmanlike conduct of Barry Bonkarenko in the Conke Cola 100, Team Leeroy Racing do hearby formally protest this driver’s conduct and ask that your office resolves this issue post-haste.
Mr Bonkarenko’s actions on the day were deliberate, callous and potentially life threatening. Our driver could have been injured or killed simply because Mr Bonkarento didn’t have the talent to wait for an opportunity to pass.
Our driver suffered loss of position and, potentially, championship points. This loss of position also needs to be addressed by the tribunal as our team has lost both potential prestige and sponsorship potential due to Mr Bonkarenko’s actions that day.
To this end we feel that the only honourable thing to do would be to award our team 10 championship points to redress our lost position and that Mr Bonkarenko’s ASCAR license be revoked and his team disqualified to race until they get another driver. This will send a strong message that unsafe driver behaviour will not be tolerated and that teams need to enforce that discipline or else find themselves disqualified.
If you need further information or clarification please do not hesitate to contact us.
Yours Faithfully, the Leeroy Racing legal team.
((OOC - This is just roleplay, so play it out whatever way you want to @Mr.Computah!!! 
))
Eric: “8th place, not bad eh?”
Team Head: “Not bad, but it wasn’t very exciting to watch. You have to do more than just avoid wrecks.”
Eric: “Should I be causing them instead?”
Team Head " No, …well…yeah no. Just remember this team exists to show Leviathan’s racing prowess. We won’t be around very long if people don’t even know you’re there."
Eric: “Should’ve made the car a brighter shade of yellow then.”
@Mr.Computah No worries, but I noticed you’ve got Eric Jonrosh down at 16th with 1 point instead of eleventh
“George please, you can’t smoke in the medical centre!” the doctor pleaded, as Cannonball packed his pipe with tobacco while he sat on the bed, awaiting an examination following his accident. Where on earth does he keep that tobacco pouch in his racing suit? the doctor wondered to himself.
“Son, I’ve been racin’ since you was but a twinkle in yer pa’s eye…I don’t need some egghead to tell me that I feel fine! Now, are y’all gon’ let me outta here the easy way, or we all gotta do this the hard way?!” Cannonball said as he stood up menacingly, rolling up the sleeves on his racing suit.
“Well, umm…” the young doctor stammered, “I guess since you say you feel fine, that should be good for now. But if you feel unwell at any t-”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Cannonball grumbled, taking a big draw through his pipe, “come see y’all so y’all can poke an’ prod me an’ tell me I should quit smokin’ this here pipe in m’car…” With that, Cannonball put his signature hat on, wheeled about and walked defiantly out of the medical centre, where the media had assembled to question him after his wreck. Immediately, he was greeted with a flurry of questions, thrown rapid-fire over top of one another. After a few attempts, the journalists settled down and a semblance of order took hold, punctuated by the sound of the field racing past every few moments.
“Cannonball, describe what happened out there?” The attractive, young TV reporter asked, thrusting a microphone in front of his face.
“We wrecked, plain n’ simple.” He replied gruffly.
“You took out the 26 car as they were lapping you, any comment on that?” She asked expectantly.
“I don’ like the way them boys race, if I may be honest. These Yankees come down here what with their big money and their big aahdeas, and it’s wreckin’ this here sport that y’all know was built what by men like me. They needed t’ be taught a lesson, I reckon”, Cannonball fired back, feeling his hackles rising.
“But surely there is a better way of solving your disputes than by wre-” The reporter asked, as Cannonball cut her off.
“Now listen here young lady, there’s a time what for talkin’ and a time for action…and actions speak louder than words sometimes…y’hear me?” Cannonball said curtly. “Now if y’all excuse me, I gotta go build me another racing car!”
“Cannonball!” Another reporter shouted to get his attention as he strode away from the scrum. “Is there any truth to the rumours that you stole one of the ASCAR executive’s cars to be used as a template for this year’s Special?”
Cannonball turned and grinned, “Now now, son…let’s not go usin’ words without understandin’ what they mean!” he replied. “It’s only stealin’ if the car been moved from where it was parked, and you’ll find I ain’t moved it but one inch!”
“But, it was totally disassembled, according to my source!” The reporter asked, pressing the issue.
“Now son, I don’t expect you to know this, but a racin’ car is a complicated thing, and to build a good’un, you need to be takin’ very precise measurements, and that means that sometimes, y’all gotta get inside the thang to get a true understanding of it.” Cannonball retorted, “and besides, I left ‘em a set a’ wrenches what for puttin’ it back together again…I ain’t no jerk after all!” With that, Cannonball strode off through the crowds, leaving the reporters dumbfounded.
Aaand I quote: “No, no, he didn’t slam you, he didn’t bump you, he didn’t nudge you… he rubbed you. And rubbin, son, is racin’.”
((@HighOctaneLove))
Dear manager of Leeroy Racing,
We are currently investigating the events that took place during the Conke Cola 100 between the #28 PMI Usurper and the #86 Bogliq Maverick. We have yet to get to a consensus in the corporate body of ASCAR, but we will provide team Leeroy with funds to cover Vlad Bolovic’s medical expenses if they were injured during the accident and a small compensation at the end of the season.
-The corporate body of ASCAR (Automation Stock Car Auto Racing)
