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Neutral Dimension
Rocksville - RHB's workshop
0800 AM
Dec 27

[POV of Mad Jack]

I parked my Shelby GT500 outside of of RHB's shop, it looked like he was working on a 1940s Willys on his inside garage slab. Once inside I saw he had the car in pieces, the suspension set crushed like, his engine had grease and oil baked onto it, the exaust that had hung over the left tire was crumpled, the roof had been caved in as had the trunk, and the the windshield's glass was heavily cracked, infact the fenders he had left off were the only recognizable thing. The look of shame on RHB's face became apparent, he touched the car's fender as if to say good bye.

Me (Mad Jack): she's seen better days...
RHB: this poor girl didn't deserve what she got, her poor body drug onto the winning stage.
Me (Mad Jack): she looks like she can be repaired.
RHB: why, I haven't done it in 380 years.
Me (Mad Jack): what happened anyways.

[POV of RHB]

380 years ago
Jan. 30th
2134 Great Britian
420th Annual Platinum Games
2100 PM

My heart throbbed as the the checkered flag went down, the fancy hybrid sports cars set in rows. Beside me was my nemesis, Radian, he was in a 2100 Corvette stingray with a turbo charged mid engine with boost, my 40's Willys roared with its supercharged 426 Hellephant engine delivering 1300 Horsepower and 950 pounds of torque, I had taken the fenders off of my willys and had painted 'R's Speed Team -101- in memory of Anna' on the side. My radio charmed up 'Hair of a dog' by Nazareth. I slamed the clutch down, pushed the shifter into first, and slammed down the accelerator. The greasy hot Goodyear Slicks rippled as they spun, the rubber flicked off in bits. Blue flame shot from the exaust as the head lights bounced to the right and left and then acceleration slammed my head agains the sheet metal of the roof panel. I darter forward and quickly shifted to second gear before anyone else had even throttled up. I then raced down the tracks and puched through the gears as the other cars closed in.

[30 minutes later]

The firey wrecks around me bust in orange and yellow as the oil and burning fuel leaked onto the thinly paved track. Audience members screaming in horror as the burning racers jumped from their wrecks. I then busted through and jolted the frame of my car, Radian was not far behind me. Another car slamed into my left side as Radains hit my right, their electric engines were powerful in the short run but my torque was unkillable. I then saw a flipped Lamborghini and turned my wheel to the left, the car on my left then flipped on top of mine and bent my roof panel and trunk. I then saw the finish line. Radian slobbering in hate, I jerked the steering wheel to the right and launched his car into the left wall as I started spinning, the car on top of me flew off and crushed the front of Radian's car. My car then flipped side over side three or four times before skidding on the bare tires across the checkered line. The engine then over heated as the engine block split and the pistons shot out, the hot oil leaked down the sides of the engine as the liquid rubber fell from the tires. I tried to open the door but ended up kicking it open, the crowd roard as I exited.

[POV of Mad Jack]

I could sense a long deep memory flow over him.

RHB: hmm, had a little wreck at the end of the APG 420.
Me (Mad Jack): can I help with the games?
RHB: Infact... Yes you can, and in two different ways. One, I have a letter that you need to give to Brax. And Two... I need you to head to the Racer Graveyard.
Me (Mad Jack): wh...
RHB: you need to race, here is a spending card... find something nice, that needs work ofcourse, and charge it to me.
Me (Mad Jack): Thanks...!

After tracking down Brax and delivering him a letter, I went to the Racer Graveyard. It was about 4 miles due south of the odd mansion on the hill. I seen the wrecked Lincolns sticking out of the ground in a Stonehenge pattern with an ascended 1951 Hudson Hornet, with its racing paint, flying above them. I pulled into the oily driveway and parked beside the garage.
[Four Horsemen by Metallica played from the garage]
Their were slick old rides and old fashioned fenderless racers lined up under an old cobblestone garage, beside the garage was litteral pile of wrecked motorcycles, A line of 1940s led sleds were followed by a line of wrecked 1960s Muscle Cars. A 1967 Barracuda with dull black paint, and a white skull and crossbones with a high hanging bug catcher, slid into the drive and stopped. A man in a worn out blue mechanics unifor got out of the car, he was wearing a Budweiser hat and had a cigarette hanging off his lip and it's pack of brothes tucked in his left breast pocket.
[The Trooper by Iron Maiden came on]
I talked to the gritty mechanic named Joe Hale Brusky, he then led me to a line of old beat to shit, but famous race cars.

Me (Mad Jack): Is that the Daytona that broke the 200 mph...
Mechanic: yep... that's Buddy's old ride. *Lights cigarette*
Me (Mad Jack): Is that the...
Mechanic: the Model SJ won the Indianapolis twice.
Me (Mad Jack): Is that the Ford GT40 that...
Mechanic: that beast won the first Le Mans, put the greasy Italian junk in its place.
Me (Mad Jack): I'll take it...
Mechanic: lets fill out the papers.

That evening I had the rusty, beat up, black, Le Mans winning, 1966 Ford GT40... oh, boy!