Well, I bit the bullet, got some new air-coolers that fit my rig. Still undecided as to whether to continue in the competition, though.
After all, I missed the era where I could’ve thrown the 662 big-block in the Savage.
Still, Malaise Era… Possibly a time for the 2600 to shine.
Link to the Lore
Sinistra Motors Headquarters, Nevada, 1979
“You guys need to stop doing burnouts in the Bogliq parking lot.” Luke demanded, looking at his employees with a grim look on his face. “I just got a fuckin’ phone call after one of you idiots got themselves busted making fish-hooks with the new Traville. They’ve threatened legal action if it keeps happening, and I’m tired of not being able to find my employees when they’re needed most. This shit cost us a spot in Motor World Review, because no one was available to deliver the Savage 662.”
“Sorry boss.” Andrea said. “Guess we got carried away harassing the outsiders, cost us a bit more than intended.”
“Just sell the cars, please. I get it, burnouts are fun, and everyone wants to leave their mark in the competition’s parking lot, but we need to grow up as a company, and leave the childish pranks to the newcomers.” Luke said.
Just then, an almighty screech and a crash erupted in the parking lot. Luke sighed as Mark arrived, then said, “Sorry, Luke. Bald tires, wet spot on the pavement. Kinda wrecked my Traville and your Savage.”
“That’s coming out of your fuckin’ paycheck. I just gave a lecture on not doing burnouts in the competitors’ parking lots, and you come here, having done exactly that.”