To whom it may concern,
I'm returning my Ferrari to your dealership. Send me a check for what you think is fair, and then lose my contact information.
Allow me to explain. I am writing to you out of frustration due to events that transpired yesterday.
I own this beautiful red 360 Modena. The car is an absolute dream to drive, and practically vacuums gorgeous but shallow women off the sidewalk as I pass by. The salesman had me convinced that the Modena has enough power to destroy literally everything I might encounter on the road. After driving it, I believed him enough to make a $160,000 commitment to take one home. I’ve loved it ever since.
Until yesterday.
There I was on top of the world, motoring past the lesser-heeled peons of Orlando when a green Mustang (a MUSTANG!) pulled even with me. The two guys inside both looked at me as if they wanted something. The passenger leaned out the window at me and yelled, "Come on!!" I figured the only thing they could possibly want was to see how fast my Ferrari was. Please. After all, I knew there was no way in Hell they thought they could challenge the invincibility of my precious Modena with a FORD. I kept talking on my cell phone as they pulled away, and noticed a green sticker on the back window that read FUEL SLUT. Whatever.
Their car had COBRA stamped into the rear bumper. Pfft. Wasn’t even a new one; it looked like it was about 6 or 7 years old, and was making a ragged whining noise under the hood. I was about to tell them they needed to find a service garage or a junkyard to take care of that POS, but I figured, what better way to illustrate that than by blowing their doors off into last week? I got off the phone and eased up to the line at the light with them right behind me. Just wait for the green light, you fools…
The light turned green and I rolled out normally until I crossed the intersection, with them following about a car’s length behind me, then I started ripping through the gears. I wound up 1st gear and immediately pulled another car, then hit 2nd gear and stayed in the throttle while I checked the mirror to watch how fast they were falling back.
They weren’t.
Not only were they not falling behind any farther, they were GAINING on me. 3rd gear was more of the same, until I had to brake for the next light with them nosing at my rear wheel. It had to be a mistake. I chose the open lane at the next light and saw them get behind me again, so I decided to give them full-on run and show them what my Modena was made of. On green, I quickly hopped ahead by about twenty feet, then that damned green Cobra again matched my acceleration before it began reeling me in. If that wasn’t bad enough, they changed lanes and pulled alongside me in 3rd gear, with the passenger pointing his camera phone at me. I was about to have an aneurysm when suddenly they dropped back sharply as a silver sedan broke free from the traffic behind us. I saw it zigzag around slower cars and head for the braking Cobra, then it whipped around it and came flying up behind me as I slowed for the light. “Crap,” I thought. Undercover cop? I eased over into the open right lane, and the sedan pulled up behind me with the Mustang bringing up the rear.
Not a cop.
A Cadillac CTS-V. :??:
All I could see in my rearview mirror now was a Cadillac crest surrounded by mesh grille. The Cadillac driver revved at me. This was getting more ridiculous by the minute. As soon as the light went green, I smoked the tires across the crosswalk and was off like a shot, heading for redline in 1st gear. By the middle of 2nd gear, I took a quick glance at the rearview. The view hadn’t changed one bit, with the exception of the appearance of the green Cobra blasting up the middle lane in my side mirror, now coming alongside the Caddy when I went into 3rd. The Mustang passed the Cadillac - which was still glued to my rear bumper - and was steadily gaining on me. I looked down - 116mph. The Cobra had to be doing at least 120. I’d had enough. I think I was actually grateful to have to brake for the traffic ahead slowing for the next light. I weaved in between a couple of soccer moms and hid in the front of the left lane, as the Caddy pulled up second in the lane to my right and I heard the Mustang roll to a stop behind the minivan at my rear. Thank God the road was only one lane from this point on. I saw the Caddy driver waving back out his window, pumping a thumbs up and congratulating the guy behind the wheel of the Cobra. Bastards.
I suppose my only hope is to return the Modena and take the depreciation hit, get back about $100 grand, buy a CTS-V for 50 large, a Cobra for about $30k, and spend the rest on therapy to get rid of the recurring vision of me being made a rolling prison bitch in the middle of Windermere in broad daylight. I can cough hard enough to bring up a kidney, and I still can’t coax my testicles back out.
Oh yeah... Screw you too, Fuel Slut. :cryying:
Signed,
Pistat Enzo
;-)
I'm returning my Ferrari to your dealership. Send me a check for what you think is fair, and then lose my contact information.
Allow me to explain. I am writing to you out of frustration due to events that transpired yesterday.
I own this beautiful red 360 Modena. The car is an absolute dream to drive, and practically vacuums gorgeous but shallow women off the sidewalk as I pass by. The salesman had me convinced that the Modena has enough power to destroy literally everything I might encounter on the road. After driving it, I believed him enough to make a $160,000 commitment to take one home. I’ve loved it ever since.
Until yesterday.
There I was on top of the world, motoring past the lesser-heeled peons of Orlando when a green Mustang (a MUSTANG!) pulled even with me. The two guys inside both looked at me as if they wanted something. The passenger leaned out the window at me and yelled, "Come on!!" I figured the only thing they could possibly want was to see how fast my Ferrari was. Please. After all, I knew there was no way in Hell they thought they could challenge the invincibility of my precious Modena with a FORD. I kept talking on my cell phone as they pulled away, and noticed a green sticker on the back window that read FUEL SLUT. Whatever.
Their car had COBRA stamped into the rear bumper. Pfft. Wasn’t even a new one; it looked like it was about 6 or 7 years old, and was making a ragged whining noise under the hood. I was about to tell them they needed to find a service garage or a junkyard to take care of that POS, but I figured, what better way to illustrate that than by blowing their doors off into last week? I got off the phone and eased up to the line at the light with them right behind me. Just wait for the green light, you fools…
The light turned green and I rolled out normally until I crossed the intersection, with them following about a car’s length behind me, then I started ripping through the gears. I wound up 1st gear and immediately pulled another car, then hit 2nd gear and stayed in the throttle while I checked the mirror to watch how fast they were falling back.
They weren’t.
Not only were they not falling behind any farther, they were GAINING on me. 3rd gear was more of the same, until I had to brake for the next light with them nosing at my rear wheel. It had to be a mistake. I chose the open lane at the next light and saw them get behind me again, so I decided to give them full-on run and show them what my Modena was made of. On green, I quickly hopped ahead by about twenty feet, then that damned green Cobra again matched my acceleration before it began reeling me in. If that wasn’t bad enough, they changed lanes and pulled alongside me in 3rd gear, with the passenger pointing his camera phone at me. I was about to have an aneurysm when suddenly they dropped back sharply as a silver sedan broke free from the traffic behind us. I saw it zigzag around slower cars and head for the braking Cobra, then it whipped around it and came flying up behind me as I slowed for the light. “Crap,” I thought. Undercover cop? I eased over into the open right lane, and the sedan pulled up behind me with the Mustang bringing up the rear.
Not a cop.
A Cadillac CTS-V. :??:
All I could see in my rearview mirror now was a Cadillac crest surrounded by mesh grille. The Cadillac driver revved at me. This was getting more ridiculous by the minute. As soon as the light went green, I smoked the tires across the crosswalk and was off like a shot, heading for redline in 1st gear. By the middle of 2nd gear, I took a quick glance at the rearview. The view hadn’t changed one bit, with the exception of the appearance of the green Cobra blasting up the middle lane in my side mirror, now coming alongside the Caddy when I went into 3rd. The Mustang passed the Cadillac - which was still glued to my rear bumper - and was steadily gaining on me. I looked down - 116mph. The Cobra had to be doing at least 120. I’d had enough. I think I was actually grateful to have to brake for the traffic ahead slowing for the next light. I weaved in between a couple of soccer moms and hid in the front of the left lane, as the Caddy pulled up second in the lane to my right and I heard the Mustang roll to a stop behind the minivan at my rear. Thank God the road was only one lane from this point on. I saw the Caddy driver waving back out his window, pumping a thumbs up and congratulating the guy behind the wheel of the Cobra. Bastards.
I suppose my only hope is to return the Modena and take the depreciation hit, get back about $100 grand, buy a CTS-V for 50 large, a Cobra for about $30k, and spend the rest on therapy to get rid of the recurring vision of me being made a rolling prison bitch in the middle of Windermere in broad daylight. I can cough hard enough to bring up a kidney, and I still can’t coax my testicles back out.
Oh yeah... Screw you too, Fuel Slut. :cryying:
Signed,
Pistat Enzo
;-)
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