V6 Vandals - D4 Noon-2p - “Now This is Street Racing”
The Vandals’ Ishu Truckling was sitting at a stop light, and Amy was revving the engine mercilessly, watching the lights. The twin turbos howled as the 2.7 liter V6 snarled, the whole mini-truck shaking with the fury of 325 horsepower threatening to be unleashed.
The light turned green, and Amy dumped the clutch at about 4500 RPM, then carried first gear to the 8000 RPM redline. The tires squealed, then chirped in second, and a soft chirp in third as she went through the gears. Luke looked over at Amy, then said, “And you call me crazy.”
“I didn’t make a wig of brass chains just before the event, nor am I the one with a 150 mile-per-hour speeding ticket in Nevada.” Amy shot back.
“Keep this up and you will, but it won’t be in Nevada. Luckily for you, I’m eavesdropping on the police channels, and they haven’t noticed our shit-brown mini-truck yet. But they’ll be able to follow the cloud to find us because we’re still burning oil.” Luke replied.
“So, rest plans when, exactly?” Jake asked, breaking up the talk of speeding tickets.
“Probably tail end of 6 PM, maybe 8 PM. Not sure yet. When this lunatic feels like relinquishing the wheel.” Luke replied.
Cody laughed, then said, “Good thing your mom’s a race-car driver, Jake. We might actually make decent time.”
“If she doesn’t break the car. After all, tapping the rev-limiter isn’t nice to an engine with an oil-burning problem.” Jake responded. “And she’s driving it like a race-car.”
“No, I’m driving it like a rental. There’s a reason a rental car is the best off-roader, and the fastest car you’ll usually ever drive, and it’s because you don’t have to care about it.” Amy said. “This just happens to be a sporty front-drive rental in an unassuming shell.”
The next stop-light also ended up with a one-tire-fire all the way across the intersection, and the V6 wailing like the Hounds of Hell were chasing their smoke-blowing Truckling. The blow-off valves hissed like a bowl of angry rattlesnakes between each gear change as Amy tried to close the distance on the other teams.
“So, Cody, Jake, tell me, who’s gettin’ passed by the Turbo Truckling next?” Amy asked.
Jake looked at the GPS, then said, “If things hold out, we’ll either be matched with the Outriders in a couple hours, or we’ll blow their doors off. Depends on how much gas they’ve got versus how much we’ve got, and whether they plan to stop or we plan to stop. Either way, they’re the ones in front of us that we stand a chance to catch.”
“Good. It’ll be fun to pass their Petoskey Enforcer.” Amy said.
“You’re still bitter about that?” Luke asked.
“About what?” Cody inquired.
“Few years back, contract to replace some police cars out in Tatum Heights, MI. We put in a bid but while we were liked, our car just couldn’t win the contract.” Luke said. “So Amy’s bitter that we lost the contract, and that two of the people who were involved are in the car in front of us.”
“I am not still bitter about that. That was 18 fuckin’ years ago, and we still contracted with a different police department and unloaded our supply of Interceptors.” Amy said.
“So, why the sudden urge to pass them?” Luke inquired.
“Because I’m competitive and I’m driving. It’s like racing on a road course, you push just that little more when someone’s close enough to pass. That’s why I want to pass them.” Amy replied.
“Fair enough.” Luke said, as they raced down the road.
MRL: +15 (NC)
FTG: +20 (+8)
WAY: 6
GAS: 1/2
FST: 7
OIL: 1 quart
(Yep, felt that a bit more story had to come out. And contrary to what Amy says, she is still bitter that the Tatum Heights Police Department didn’t pick the Interceptor. Mostly because it took three years to find a buyer for the cars that were made. As for me, no, I entered knowing mine was a wild card and wouldn’t win. But it makes for a better story if Amy has a little touch of a rivalry just because her Police Interceptor didn’t get chosen. As for all the links, they go to a Car Shopping Round that was done forever ago.)
