Here I am, casually driving home, sans top, late one recent afternoon. The speed limit is 50 and the current four lane highway is dropping to two lanes in about a quarter mile.

As I pass an older car which is creeping along on my right, I hear a thunderous roar from his jab on the accelerator (obviously for my benefit). I look over and my mullet laden friend is giving me that "cute little car, for a miata wanna be" scowl.

At this point I size up this turkey's glorified beer can. It's a "Yield" yellow Chevy Nova (yes, it's my choice of color description - for reasons that will soon become apparent). Aside from the fact that this dinosaur appeared to be painted with the same roller he probably used on his trailer (read: home), its proud owner had also had enough bottle deposit cash left over to invest in racing slicks, a rear lift kit, and a fancy, newfangled hood that had a scoop large enough to use as a carport for my S!

At this point I notice our friend's reason to assert his automotive dominance in the form of the little blonde friend he was trying to impress in the seat beside him...

Well, being the proud man that I am - not to mention my zest for conquest, I slapped my bone stock S into second and launched her with a grip and a squeal of the rear tires. In response, Mr. Hee-Haw slams his foot on the gas to clean my clock. Too late, Jethro! Vtec did it's job and by the time I hit nine grand in third, I was grinning ear to ear as I glanced in the rearview and saw him struggle to catch up!

Now we're down to only the one northbound lane with my beautiful, gleaming black-on-black the frontrunner. I'm thinking now that maybe Jethro missed a gear because he seems to be somewhat pissed and sticking like glue to my bumper as I slow to pull to a red light. In fact, while I'm waiting for the light to change, Mr. Clampett AGAIN starts revving the pride and joy of the trailer park, urging me to try to out run him now.

3...2...1...the light hits green and I sidestep the clutch from 7,500. My S jumps forward as my tires get a textbook grip and push her to redline. Jethro's on the gas HARD and gets smoke, squeal and a good view of my twin pipes and chrome "H" as I pull away! (that's right, Jethro - this ain't your father's Accord - don't EVER confuse these tail-lamps with a Miata again)

A quick snap of the wrist and I'm in second and another firm launch. The sweet sound of VTEC in my ears and a glance at the tach and again it's time to shift. All the time Jethro struggles to catch me but not today! At 110 MPH I check the rearview again and he's looking more like a spot of dust on my rear wind deflector.

I shut her down realizing that Jethro's mean lean yellow machine is closer to the "yellow submarine" of Beatles fame.

Damn, now I suppose his girlfriend's probably left him for Billy-Bob with the Camaro!

 

your sense of humor is different than mine

good kill

 

good kill but it's 'VTEC'

 

Thanks for the reminder!

Ed

 

What does "VTEC" sound like? In my '98 Civic EX, leaving tollbooths in the left lane, with the window down, my engine sounded pretty sweet winding out. Like a chord. AEM made intake air sound good. Like a pipe organ in reverse. I like the almost musical quality it gave the car. I wish they made parts for my current car.

 

good kill

 

You killed a Nova? Macho to the extreme...and a cheesier screenplay has never been written. Are you really that freaking bored that you have to vomit that shit?

 

Ouch! Your review is HURTFUL! Since you're an enthusiast and not an owner, I understand your lack of interest in this kill. Perhaps you'd be better suited for the following sites:

1. Beaterz.com
2. Missouritrailertrash.com

Enjoy!

 

Hey, watch it, I'm from Missouri and my house ain't got no wheels.