12/26/2018
The Midnight Marauders, after having a 6-hour session of trying to drown themselves in pitchered suds, position their beer farting asses in their heavy iron tanks. As they eye up each other’s ride, they are plotting tactics and looking for weak spots in their opponent’s weapons of mess destruction. NOT! Their brains have gallons of beer pulsating through their cranium capillaries and the only cognitive thought materializing is: “this is going to be fun!” In this corner, is Danny Rhubarb, a 5-foot 6-inch sporting a blue,1969 Ford Fairlane 500 BEATER. In this corner, is James Avian, a 6-foot 4-incher is sitting behind the wheel of a yellow 1970 Pontiac Lemans, known as the LEMON BEATER. The first one out of the gate is Jim, who kills the lights and disappears northbound into the city streets. One minute later, Danny will depart on a seek and destroy mission. Following Jim’s initial route, he is cautious and slowly creeps down the street, looking for brake lights or sparks from dragging body panels. Unknown to Danny, Jim has just invented an untested tactic that has never been deployed. Traveling 3 blocks up the street in low, he makes a right turn without using his brakes. No one sees this, and he counters with another right into the alley. Going southbound 5 houses, he locates the perfect ambush point that he spotted from the street. A ranch home with a level 12′ wide grass path clear back to the alley with no fences to impede his path. Turning into the yard and slowly creeping up between the houses, he lies like a cougar, waiting to pounce. Idling in the patch of grass next to the house’s side door, he spots his victim slowly coming up the street. Jim nails the accelerator and drives that Pontiac towards the Ford at light speed. At the last second, a hard right moves the impact point to his own right fender, saving his radiator. The Ford instantly goes sideways into the curb as both wheels fold. Car death comes quickly to the Fairlane.
Torked Truth 