The Ricer Fly By...
I stopped by the Sunoco gas station, 'cause I was a little low on gas. I always stop at this one station because they have the 118 octane go-juice which of course is the minumum it takes for me to run about half throttle with my new 2 bar intercooled turbo 1.8 setup on my tyte azz civic, a DX of course.
so anyways, there I am pumping my own gas (hey, I got to be real, my crew I gave the day off)
and this fat mother fvcker of a guy wearing some gay-*** long pants/suit combo like he was a fvcking fireman or something is there too. Only I see he's some dumbestic idiot who probably only gets like 41 HP per liter and thinks he's all that.
I peep over at his ride, and it says 'John Force' on the side (handwritten, not even in ghetto style or chinese, so he is definitely G3ey). He's also got these mad slicks too. I'm like WTF does this guy think he is? Probably has a mullet under that helmet, and a 305 TPI under the hood.
So the rest of the ride is pretty riced out. He's got like painted on headlights (shoulda been to pep boys dude, these foglights which I have like 12 of are only $19.99 a pair and really improve your nighttime driving), he's got a wing that's even bigger than mine. But it's not double stack. That is so 80's. He probably thinks Duran Duran is cool too.
And then get this? It's got 'CASTROL' painted all over the hood? WTF? Man get real. You need 'MUGEN', 'APEXI', 'STILLEN', or some other respectable name on there. WTF is a 'Castrol'?.
So I come up to the guy and say:
me: What's that you got there? some riced out mullet-mobile?
John Force: yah man, you got me. 78 national titles, I'm basically a ricer at heart. My daily driver is my track car. I live my life one gas station at a time.
me: ah, that's because your a dumbestic. If you had a real car like me, you'd run 3 second 1/4 miles and get 50 mpg.
John Force: yah, my mileage ain't what it used to be. I have a map here of the gas stations around town. Between this stop here, and the two airports in town, I can't get that **** 118 octane gas anywhere. Let me tell you, shopping at the mall and trying to get a parking space was the worst this year. Some lady in a mini-van jacked the space I was waiting for. Can you believe it?
me: yah dude, dumbestics are gas hogs, and are too big too fit in most spaces. Why do you even try?
John Force: (eyes my JATO spec fart can) tell you what buddy, out there is a marked off 1/4 mile. I use it to test out my new tires every once in a while. I'll bet you $50 I can beat you in a 1/4 mile.
me: Done dude. Got your chick in the car? I want her on my **** after I beat you too.
John Force: my old lady? nah she's out modeling for Vogue. maybe your buck-toothed chick wants to groom my mullet afterwards?
me: nah, I already told that ***** to sit the fvck down. I don't want to confuse her.
John Force: well, I gotta run. If you think you're up to it, meet me across the street at the light.
me: Why do you even try? Just give me the $50 now and we can forget about it.
John Force: The only guy that ever beat me was Rick King. It was a bracket race and I was off my game. On a Pro Tree I cut a 0.4000000000000001 light and ran dead on my dial-in. Somehow, that crapalier still beat me. Man that grumpy is good. Anyways, I have a honda too. It's a pretty sensible driver, but I love this mustang.
me: That's a mustang? Judging from your mullett I had to assume that was an IROC or something. Whatever. meet you at the light.
so there we are.
I in my civic, and John in his mudstain. I'm playing with the boost control knobs. How much is enough for a total ricer in a mudstain? 5 lbs? 10lbs? Hmmm...
He's got a pretty nasty idle. But that wing man, I don't know. And those painted on headlights... yeah, 5 lbs should do it. I'll let him walk me out of the hole, and then I'll pass him up real quick and make faces at him (he's on my left).
So the light turns green, and I look over at John Force. He just sits there and gives this weak rev. I cough and choke a bit and my eyes start to burn because that POS dumbestic must not be firing right. I hit my power windows up and turn the AC-recirculate on. I fire back a 10,000 RPM VTEC howl yo. Man the whole town musta heard that!
John Force hops the tires and rolls forward about a car. I tach up around 8k and chirp my front left tire right back at him. Take that mullet-*****!
John points at me and laughs and brings the revs up. All of a sudden I can't see and there's smoke everywhere. ****! Some kind of dumbestic trick! I turn on my first set of foglights. Damn! damn! nothing! where'd he go? I flick on the next set, and the next, and the next. I'm reaching all the way over to the passenger side, flicking on foglights. Still nothing.
Finally, the smoke clears and I see this big 'Castrol' coming at me in reverse! WTF? Screw this, I'm outta here.
I punch it and double clutch just to make sure I'm VTECing out of there at 5lbs of boost. John is still coming backwards at me. I use some MAD dodging skills and I jump into the left lane. I'm now going forward at about 30 mph, and the dude is still going backwards. tool! He probably broke his dumbestic
tranny!
So I'm rowing through the gears, and double-clutch every upshift. I see the 1/8 mile marker go by and John Force is nowhere in site. I hit the hazard lights to signal the win and continue minding my own biznass.
But then this blur of paint and wing and parachute and Castrol stickers sucks the body kit right of my car. So there I am, naked, no body kit, no wing, no stickers, and worst of all, no foglights. Talk about ******, What a ricer fly-by.
We pull over, and BS and I ask for my $50
John Force says: Why do I owe you $50 again? Didn't you see me blow by you?
me: Ricer fly-bys are not wins. Didn't you see my hazards? When I hit the hazards, that means you lost.
Cheers,
Robert
The Ricer Fly By..(long) 
