So there I was, in an industrial parkish area (I don't remember much, we all just left a huge party. Lots of 16-19 year old girls there). Two guys pulled up along side in a Carrera GT, red I think.
I could see in their eyes that they were challenging me. I told them, "I live my life a quarter mile at a time, fellas."
The CGT got me off the line, I must have been granny shiftin', not double clutchin' like you should. That was my mistake. However, I quickly caught up, hit the 'Go Baby Go' button and blew the doors right off of the CGT. Left them in a cloud of dust (or was that smoke?).
It was so intense, I was so scared. It reminded me of my hardcore street racing days. When cars were so powerful that it would rip the floorboards right out of them!
This was my last "kill". I'm hanging up my racing keys, no more for this old man.
"If one day the speed kills me, do not cry because I was smiling." - Haboob