A throaty roar and the sounds of Buddy doing "Rave On" announce the arrival of a greasy looking type in a once white T-shirt, now stained in gear lube and 50 weight. A pack of Camels is wrapped in his sleeve and the jeans could use a wash. The car looks like its seen better days when it belonged to some family. Its a blah looking '61 Chevy convertible in gray primer, but the tires and the sound make it a bit suspect....not to mention the Paxton blower atop two AFB's on an Edelbrock poking through a jagged hole in the hood. The big Rat motor under the hood has been balanced and blueprinted and run's Jahn's 12/1's and an Isky roller. The two and a half headers are custom, but are incongruously joined to a pair of cheap Thrush mufflers dangling underneath. The Posi in the rear runs a 5.11 gear and is connected up front to a Muncie M-22 Rock Crusher and a B&B clutch. A T-handle Hurst sticks up from another jagged hole in the floor. The driver slides out the window, for the doors are welded shut, and swings two size 13 boots over and onto the ground.He pulls the Goodyear cap down a bit more over his eyes and ambles up to the carhops window. Sticking a Camel between his lips, he lights it with a flaring Zippo, takes a long drag blowing smoke all over the short haired kid across the counter.

"Gimmee a Coke there Slick.............How ya' doin' Babe, what time ya' get off?.........Hey Ace..Get with the Coke fer chrissakes.........Yeah, thanks.........NOW--WHERE'S THE FOCKIN' PISSANT WITH THE 'VETTE????........Tell him to bring his pink slip too.......Money Talks, Bullshit Walks!!"

Spaw