I have a feeling I'm delving into really, really unstable ground here, mostly because I don't really know what the whole street racing thing is about yet(learners permit). Just give it a chanvce. I try to be original in a genre that is about original as blue jeans and a t-shirt.
disclaimer
Don't own tenchi, rights directly sieved by pioneer. I own Jacobson and Makio. Blah Blah.
**********
I know I shouldn't have let her go, it was too much of a risk, but who was I to argue? I'd go into some borring ass flashback, but we all know how lame that can be.........
Oh what the hell, fuck originality for the moment.
Flashback sequence.
It all started about a year ago, back in tokyo. We had been out partying all night, but I was stuck as the "safe driver". Club morpheus and their rave parties, fuck me if I ever get to have some fun with the dj. Anyway, I was sobre and they wern't; Mihoshi, ryoko, and Ayeka-all drunk outa their minds. The bar seemed their home. I have to admit I was having a good time as well, until....... You all know what happens, someone gets pissed off, punches a mick in the face and then you got a hell of a problem. Protaganist meets antagonist. Person meets Problem. Shit - hits - fan.
The morpheus sat right next to a healthy strip of pavement almost a quarter mile long. I'd hear the engines reving and screeching tires all night, but never really even put a thought to it in my head. The inside was a ravers dream, endless flow of alcohol, strobe lights and a constant supply of dj's, pretty hardcore shit. The kind of thing that made night culture what it was. Hell The Morpheus was night culture in the strip. The strip wasn't any more than a couple mile stretch of bars and, well pavement. It was funny really. I had been to this particular club almost every week this year, and rellished how everyone sort of just "fell in" every night. I'd see regulars, and a few new kids -fuckin ecstasy bastards- but most of it was made out of a couple nobodies that just stumbled in from the suburbs. Sure you'll catch a nice one every now and then, but mostly you get the stiff tryin to fit in--and that's where Twon came in.
I sat, sippin my ice water with the girls when the dj put down a record that sounded crazy. It drove the blonde mad. Mihoshi got up, drunk as she was, and stumbled onto the dance floor with her martini still in her hand. I watched as she danced around with the other guys and girls waving the glass around in the air until finally the entire conconction came to rest on the head of before mentioned asshole. Antoine Nefari Jackson, or twon for short. Sure I'd be mad if I got drenched with the shit but this guy was somethin else. Raising his hand in the air he went to slap her, but ryoko caught his hand and flung his ass through the croud. The guy got up dusted himself off and walked over to ryoko.
"Got a car bitch"
"May...be" she slurred.
"know how to use it?" he asked.
"sure" Now I was pissed, the only car out there was mine, and Ryoko had only started driving. I got up to try and get our selves out of the mess, but it was too late. He snapped his fingers and pointed out to the parking lot.
"outside. now. we settle this without fists, only us and the pavement."
"Don't we get to make a bet?" Ayeka chimed in. Damn jurian greed.
"name it and I'll match. No slips, my cars too special for that" he said.
"deal"
Now what that meant was, If ryoko lost, we'd be three hundred in the hole. Money that I can't just piss away. The car, our apartment, food! I remember thinking back to the masaki house when mihoshi and I used to room there. Seven crazy girls and tenchi all under the same roof.
STOP! Ryoko was drunk! I was slated as the desi for the night, and hadn't even broken a minute to see her.
"GOD!"
I watched as the three stumbled their way to the parking lot singing some crazy drinking song. Ryoko teleported in front of the car vying for the driver side over the others. Sure, I could have said your drunk as hell and we're goin home, but what fun would that be eh? So givin up the keys I watched as ryoko stumbled halfhartedly into my car. The bitch held a three hundred and twenty horsepower gtx nine thousand in her hands, to think she probably wouldn't remember this in the morning. I started to recall the design specs washu read out to me in the inspection. She does zero to sixty in seven seconds, suspension heated to hug the ground, optimized fuel input for maximum miles to the gallon, titanium weld carbon driveshaft, and a really cool ass neon green lamp under the hood. God I built that car from the ground up! Working the nightshift to pay off the clean air muffeler, living with no power to balance out the check book, now that I think about it I could have saved a little more had it not been for miho....
*sssssscccccrrrrrrreeeeeeecccccccchh* "Burnout!"
Promptly snapping out of my trip I saw her lean out the window and say;
"Ki *hic*...yone, I'm takin the car.....*hic*...." Oh god! I couldnt watch!
"Kiyone?"
"*sigh*" could of muttered some real words but I was too caught up in the moment. "See that yellow strip down there?" I said.
"No..."
"good, just aim for that and youll be set." The car was fucked, but she was a goddess so I figured 'if she screws this car I guess I can have washu replicate me a new one.'
They lined up, each engine blaring. I replayed what I go through when I'm in the car.
Clutch,
Keys,
Brake,
Gas,
Gear,
Clutch.......
On and on I went until the flagman walked out into the street. He put both arms up shot a gaze at ryoko and looked up.
"Ready! Clutches steady! GO!"
With that I watched as my car sped down the sidestreet for that 12 second quarter of a mile. Amazingly we won, big surprise right? I had never even thought of racing my car before, but after that night I was 300 bucks richer and on a journey I'd never forget. As for a reason why I even let ryoko in the car in the first place, well you'll have to wait a bit for me to think of one.
----------------
Kiyone finally finds her niche, illegal street racing-how will she balance her life? find out more in episode two: Jacked Up.
If your a street racer and want to go legal visit RaceLegal.com no more speeding tickets! no more bullet holes!
If any one of these mtv generation fuckers starts bragging about how they wooped someone's ass with their blah blah blah-I'll just up and laugh in their face. Street racing takes a dedicated heart, a passion for the sport if you will, a lot of money and most of all BALLS. Streetracers are a select few, let's keep it that way.
disclaimer
Don't own tenchi, rights directly sieved by pioneer. I own Jacobson and Makio. Blah Blah.
**********
I know I shouldn't have let her go, it was too much of a risk, but who was I to argue? I'd go into some borring ass flashback, but we all know how lame that can be.........
Oh what the hell, fuck originality for the moment.
Flashback sequence.
It all started about a year ago, back in tokyo. We had been out partying all night, but I was stuck as the "safe driver". Club morpheus and their rave parties, fuck me if I ever get to have some fun with the dj. Anyway, I was sobre and they wern't; Mihoshi, ryoko, and Ayeka-all drunk outa their minds. The bar seemed their home. I have to admit I was having a good time as well, until....... You all know what happens, someone gets pissed off, punches a mick in the face and then you got a hell of a problem. Protaganist meets antagonist. Person meets Problem. Shit - hits - fan.
The morpheus sat right next to a healthy strip of pavement almost a quarter mile long. I'd hear the engines reving and screeching tires all night, but never really even put a thought to it in my head. The inside was a ravers dream, endless flow of alcohol, strobe lights and a constant supply of dj's, pretty hardcore shit. The kind of thing that made night culture what it was. Hell The Morpheus was night culture in the strip. The strip wasn't any more than a couple mile stretch of bars and, well pavement. It was funny really. I had been to this particular club almost every week this year, and rellished how everyone sort of just "fell in" every night. I'd see regulars, and a few new kids -fuckin ecstasy bastards- but most of it was made out of a couple nobodies that just stumbled in from the suburbs. Sure you'll catch a nice one every now and then, but mostly you get the stiff tryin to fit in--and that's where Twon came in.
I sat, sippin my ice water with the girls when the dj put down a record that sounded crazy. It drove the blonde mad. Mihoshi got up, drunk as she was, and stumbled onto the dance floor with her martini still in her hand. I watched as she danced around with the other guys and girls waving the glass around in the air until finally the entire conconction came to rest on the head of before mentioned asshole. Antoine Nefari Jackson, or twon for short. Sure I'd be mad if I got drenched with the shit but this guy was somethin else. Raising his hand in the air he went to slap her, but ryoko caught his hand and flung his ass through the croud. The guy got up dusted himself off and walked over to ryoko.
"Got a car bitch"
"May...be" she slurred.
"know how to use it?" he asked.
"sure" Now I was pissed, the only car out there was mine, and Ryoko had only started driving. I got up to try and get our selves out of the mess, but it was too late. He snapped his fingers and pointed out to the parking lot.
"outside. now. we settle this without fists, only us and the pavement."
"Don't we get to make a bet?" Ayeka chimed in. Damn jurian greed.
"name it and I'll match. No slips, my cars too special for that" he said.
"deal"
Now what that meant was, If ryoko lost, we'd be three hundred in the hole. Money that I can't just piss away. The car, our apartment, food! I remember thinking back to the masaki house when mihoshi and I used to room there. Seven crazy girls and tenchi all under the same roof.
STOP! Ryoko was drunk! I was slated as the desi for the night, and hadn't even broken a minute to see her.
"GOD!"
I watched as the three stumbled their way to the parking lot singing some crazy drinking song. Ryoko teleported in front of the car vying for the driver side over the others. Sure, I could have said your drunk as hell and we're goin home, but what fun would that be eh? So givin up the keys I watched as ryoko stumbled halfhartedly into my car. The bitch held a three hundred and twenty horsepower gtx nine thousand in her hands, to think she probably wouldn't remember this in the morning. I started to recall the design specs washu read out to me in the inspection. She does zero to sixty in seven seconds, suspension heated to hug the ground, optimized fuel input for maximum miles to the gallon, titanium weld carbon driveshaft, and a really cool ass neon green lamp under the hood. God I built that car from the ground up! Working the nightshift to pay off the clean air muffeler, living with no power to balance out the check book, now that I think about it I could have saved a little more had it not been for miho....
*sssssscccccrrrrrrreeeeeeecccccccchh* "Burnout!"
Promptly snapping out of my trip I saw her lean out the window and say;
"Ki *hic*...yone, I'm takin the car.....*hic*...." Oh god! I couldnt watch!
"Kiyone?"
"*sigh*" could of muttered some real words but I was too caught up in the moment. "See that yellow strip down there?" I said.
"No..."
"good, just aim for that and youll be set." The car was fucked, but she was a goddess so I figured 'if she screws this car I guess I can have washu replicate me a new one.'
They lined up, each engine blaring. I replayed what I go through when I'm in the car.
Clutch,
Keys,
Brake,
Gas,
Gear,
Clutch.......
On and on I went until the flagman walked out into the street. He put both arms up shot a gaze at ryoko and looked up.
"Ready! Clutches steady! GO!"
With that I watched as my car sped down the sidestreet for that 12 second quarter of a mile. Amazingly we won, big surprise right? I had never even thought of racing my car before, but after that night I was 300 bucks richer and on a journey I'd never forget. As for a reason why I even let ryoko in the car in the first place, well you'll have to wait a bit for me to think of one.
----------------
Kiyone finally finds her niche, illegal street racing-how will she balance her life? find out more in episode two: Jacked Up.
If your a street racer and want to go legal visit RaceLegal.com no more speeding tickets! no more bullet holes!
If any one of these mtv generation fuckers starts bragging about how they wooped someone's ass with their blah blah blah-I'll just up and laugh in their face. Street racing takes a dedicated heart, a passion for the sport if you will, a lot of money and most of all BALLS. Streetracers are a select few, let's keep it that way.