I was out getting gas tonight, when I saw a black Stang with chrome Cobra Rs and exhaust rolling by from the light. He saw me looking and nailed it in 1st, then chirped 2nd with a Grand Cherokee following behind him. I practically threw the pump hose back and jumped in the car.
I caught up to them about a mile later. Hit it once right behind him, and I seemed to be gaining. He hauled azz then, which I wasn't about to do near downtown Sanford. The Cherokee caught up to me, and his friends said, "Come on, go get him!" I got cocky. "Nah, he doesn't wanna get his azz whipped..." "Aw come on, it's quick! Get him!" OK...
Saw him slowing down ahead, so I pulled alongside to check him out. Cobras on the fenders, and "Mustang GT" on the rear bumper. Spotted a gauge pod in place of his dash clock (oh damn, about to get my ass blown away
), so I asked him what was done to his car. "Little of this, little of that..." Crap, here we go. He finally told me that he had a cam, a bored-out 5-liter, headers, and a number of other goodies. I asked him about the gauges, since I could see that one was an Air/Fuel gauge, but he changed the subject. Im thinking, either it's blown, or has a damned 15-pound "scuba tank" in it like a certain third-gen T/A driver I know... He asked what I ran and I told him my best so far had been a 13.6. he smiled back and said, "Eleven-five. You wanna run?"
Um... well....
OK. Fuggit, I'd love to see an 11-second Stang run. Lemme get my burn cream out.
I invited him out to the road where I first met and ran my buddy, Reynold (sorry man, I know you're probably trying to forget that ) and lined up. He agreed to go on three, his call. "One... two... three GO!"
It wasn't even close. I felt awful.
For him, that is.
The only 11.5 on that road was the number of cars I put on him. When I pulled over, he said, "Well, you got me. I screwed up, but you won." I didn't know what he'd done wrong, so I offered to run again. He accepted, whipped a quick 180 in the grass and did a couple of dry hops to get ready. I backed up and spun 'em for a second, just in case he was sandbagging on the first run.
"One, two, three GO!"
I walked it out easy to stay with him, and hit it when he hooked. It isn't enough to say that he lost. I don't even think "owned" would cover it. It was a slaughter. I think my girl's Mirage could've pulled a car on this guy. When he pulled up to me, he yells, "Dude, no way you're running 13.6! You're WAY faster than that." OK, this is the first time I've had to argue that my car is slower than someone thinks. He says for me to whip him like that, I have to be running in the 12s.
:lol: :lol: :lol:
Uhh, no... Told him my mods, and he threw the BS flag. Had to be me, or Orlando Speed World was wrong. Then he tells me that he just put in 2.73 gears to take a trip up north, but before he did that, his last time out he ran in the 11s.
Yup. :bored:
95 Mustang GT: $6,000.
Flowmasters, Cobra Rs, gauges: $1,000.
Having the car you've told your friends ran mid-11s whipped and left for dead by a nearly stock Cobra 'vert while they watched: priceless.
:lol1:
I caught up to them about a mile later. Hit it once right behind him, and I seemed to be gaining. He hauled azz then, which I wasn't about to do near downtown Sanford. The Cherokee caught up to me, and his friends said, "Come on, go get him!" I got cocky. "Nah, he doesn't wanna get his azz whipped..." "Aw come on, it's quick! Get him!" OK...
Saw him slowing down ahead, so I pulled alongside to check him out. Cobras on the fenders, and "Mustang GT" on the rear bumper. Spotted a gauge pod in place of his dash clock (oh damn, about to get my ass blown away
), so I asked him what was done to his car. "Little of this, little of that..." Crap, here we go. He finally told me that he had a cam, a bored-out 5-liter, headers, and a number of other goodies. I asked him about the gauges, since I could see that one was an Air/Fuel gauge, but he changed the subject. Im thinking, either it's blown, or has a damned 15-pound "scuba tank" in it like a certain third-gen T/A driver I know... He asked what I ran and I told him my best so far had been a 13.6. he smiled back and said, "Eleven-five. You wanna run?" Um... well.... OK. Fuggit, I'd love to see an 11-second Stang run. Lemme get my burn cream out.
I invited him out to the road where I first met and ran my buddy, Reynold (sorry man, I know you're probably trying to forget that
) and lined up. He agreed to go on three, his call. "One... two... three GO!" It wasn't even close. I felt awful.
For him, that is.
The only 11.5 on that road was the number of cars I put on him. When I pulled over, he said, "Well, you got me. I screwed up, but you won." I didn't know what he'd done wrong, so I offered to run again. He accepted, whipped a quick 180 in the grass and did a couple of dry hops to get ready. I backed up and spun 'em for a second, just in case he was sandbagging on the first run.
"One, two, three GO!"
I walked it out easy to stay with him, and hit it when he hooked. It isn't enough to say that he lost. I don't even think "owned" would cover it. It was a slaughter. I think my girl's Mirage could've pulled a car on this guy. When he pulled up to me, he yells, "Dude, no way you're running 13.6! You're WAY faster than that." OK, this is the first time I've had to argue that my car is slower than someone thinks. He says for me to whip him like that, I have to be running in the 12s.
:lol: :lol: :lol:
Uhh, no... Told him my mods, and he threw the BS flag. Had to be me, or Orlando Speed World was wrong. Then he tells me that he just put in 2.73 gears to take a trip up north, but before he did that, his last time out he ran in the 11s.
Yup. :bored:
95 Mustang GT: $6,000.
Flowmasters, Cobra Rs, gauges: $1,000.
Having the car you've told your friends ran mid-11s whipped and left for dead by a nearly stock Cobra 'vert while they watched: priceless.
:lol1:
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