A Redneck & his Truck

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Flynn77

Flynn77

608
United States
St. Ann, MO
ryldhune
CHAPTER 1

I belched and threw the empty beer can into the back of my new Hemi. Light blue in color, I called her “Baby”. Twenty friggin’ years workin’ for Dodge, and she’s all that I could show for it. Luckily, I knew that the layoff was comin’, so I used my employee discount. Pulled a fast one on ‘em.

First night I had her, though, my luck went the wrong way. Got pulled over and cited with a DWI (or was it a DUI?). Lost my license, and was relegated to the back roads. So I did me some muddin’.

Anyhow, was comin’ back to town one Sunday morn when I saw some dinky cars on the adjoining road bunched up together. Thought I’d have me some fun with ‘em so I veered onto the grass and clipped the trailing Eagle. Funny how such a slight touch could cause him to go off the road like that. No wonder they stopped making Eagles.

Within a couple of heartbeats that leadin’ paddy wagon was in my rear view mirror. And then I saw a checkered flag…? What the…? THEM YAHOOS THOUGHT I WAS RACIN’!

Come to find out they was just amused that somethin’ as heavy as Baby could maneuver so deftly around them dinks. I was quick to change my attitude once they presented me with a check for a couple of K’s. Enough to buy me a carbon driveshaft for Baby (much like my own).

Money for racin’, eh? I called my old army buddy who “knew a guy”, and three days later I had my license back. Emptied my bank account and bought some fancy stuff for Baby like VCD, LSD (no, not the drug), a new tranny, suspension, and some radials. Baby was stylin’, now!

Made a visit to Amalfi and some other town where the streets were narrow. My power was sufficient, and I relied on my tires to get me through. Figured I make an attempt at snow and dirt, so I ponied up my winnings for some new tires to enter them races.

Apparently, muddin’s not the same. I lost a race each, but got my revenge against them Frenchies the second time ‘round. Afterward, I took me a well-deserved rest as I pondered how to improve my 88% win/loss record. Would power be enough to get me through, or would I have to *gasp* adapt?!

A-spec: 3000

To be continued...
 
CHAPTER 2

I finished the rest of them special condition races (well, the first category of ‘em at least) without incident. That hydroplanin’ one was fun! Almost as gratifyin’ as muddin’. I started to check into the next category, but was stopped. Apparently my license wasn’t good enough for ‘em.

I headed back to my garage to give Baby some lovin’. A good wax would make both of us feel better. I just wish them other sods wouldn’t keep storin’ their own vehicles in my garage. I mean c’mon, a Cien and a Rally Raid? I was jealous with envy.

Speakin’ of sods, here comes one of ‘em now. “Flynn, the name’s Bob. Can’t help but notice you’ve won 27 out of your last 29 races. Pretty impressive.” Without waiting for me to acknowledge him, he droned on. “Well, my own skills are on par with your own, and I’d like to offer my services as a co-driver. My records with-”

I landed an uppercut on him. “Ain’t nobody touch Baby but me!” And would you believe that someone else had the nerve to walk in just then? This dipstick was wearing a trench coat. Ought to be good.

“Pssst. Got some nitrous to give your…truck…a boost.” I stared daggers at him. “Get lost. I don’t put none of that foreign crap on my truck. Does this look like a drifter to you?”

“Don’t be so judgmental, Flynn. One day, this ‘foreign crap’ will save you.” And with that, he walked out. Just as well. Got in trouble with the law for huffin’ that stuff in the past.

The next day I looked into getting me a license upgrade. They through me in a Miata and told me to slalom through some cones. What the heck? I floored the gas and went straight. A whistle blew. You mean I wasn’t supposed to hit them cones?

So I try the opposite approach. I veer to the side and avoid them cones entirely. That dang whistle blew again. Okay, so I can’t drive over ‘em, and I can’t drive around ‘em, guess I gotta go through ‘em. Well let me tell ya, it was harder than it looked. And then they made me do it AGAIN.

At the end of the day I got a big fat “IB” stamped on the back of my class F license. I was so proud. I saw a poster on the way out of the office advertising some driving missions. Was that something like Secret Agent Man? If so, sign me up!

I put my foot in my mouth as soon as I saw that Fiat. Not the kinda Fiat you and I are familiar with, but a humpdinger CLOWN car. Yeah, it was that bad. Only reason I went forward with it was for respect points. Eventually they would get me someplace. Maybe even a job at another plant.

They got better. One idea they had for a mission was for me to slam into the back of an NSX with green rims into the sand. Don’t know the significance of that, but it was fun. Gonna return to REAL racing tomorrow.

A-spec: 7900
 
:lol: Great humor, you've really cached the right environment with how your typing it.
 
Flynn77
CHAPTER 2


The next day I looked into getting me a license upgrade. They through me in a Miata and told me to slalom through some cones. What the heck? I floored the gas and went straight. A whistle blew. You mean I wasn’t supposed to hit them cones?
Click to expand...

This one's my favorite :lol:
 
Thanks for the accolades. :)

Hopefully, I'll have more story to tell if I can just steer clear of that darned bench-marking thread. >_<

Thanks, Igni.
 
I laughed my ass off reading this! :lol: is the one writing it still going to bring us chapter 3 or did he quit GT Planet?
 

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