There are some mornings when you wake up and find out that while you were asleep, something significant happened. This über-event can be anything from a world wide catastrophe to a corporate scandal or finding a gold ticket hidden inside a Wonka Bar.
Or sometimes, you can find out that a loved one passed away. In this case, that loved one would be my 300ZX. The very one that ferried me to Vegas at (low) triple-digit speeds, that helped me outrun those cops and helicopters on that high-ratings news event, the one that was able to leap a capital T in a single bound.
Yes that one. And it’s dead.
I’m sorry, please give me a moment to wipe away the tears…
OK, that’s better.
I wasn’t with her at the end, you know. See, I had sold her. Whored her out, if you will, to this 20-something kid with 11 big ones in his pocket. And for those of you with dirty minds, let me clarify that we’re taking money here.
Since she left home, she never wrote, never called… this could have been because she was a car without fingers and therefore couldn't use the telephone, or maybe because she was a Japanese car that couldn't speak English. But for whatever reason, we simply lost touch. Until her new pimp daddy, whom I’ll call the MURDERER, phoned me this morning.
It was a few minutes before 8 a.m., when my unemployed ass is usually fast asleep and snoring. But the calamity of the situation, the sheer absurdity of the senseless carnage, snapped me out of my pornographic dream and shoved the cold hard reality of twisted steel and shattered glass in my unshaven face.
Here’s the story, as told to me by the SLAUGHTERER OF SOCAL, the INLAND EMPIRE SATAN, the BLOODSPILLER OF BURBANK himself.
At some point last night, the EVIL VALLEY BOY ended up getting chased. Something about some 50 guys who accused him of denting their car fender -- I realize this is vague, but the story just gets better from here -- who then decided to dent his brain in retaliation. Being in a very fast car, he did the sensible thing and sprayed them with automatic gunfire before taking off in the Z. (I made the gunfire part up, but the rest is true.)
The Z is a fast car. It’s not the twin turbo model, but it still has plenty of get up and go. However these guys somehow managed to catch up with him and run him off the road. And yes, I stopped making stuff up at the gunfire point. The rest of this is legitimate.
When they came to a stop, they were stuck… on railroad tracks. He tried backing up but couldn’t, and for some reason he was too shocked to think of moving forward. So he and his girlfriend got out of the car, took a few things out of the trunk….
…and then got to watch as a train plowed into the Z and murd… uh, totaled it.
That’s right, she got run off the road. And hit by a train.
I asked the insensitive question of what it was like actually seeing a car get hit by a train, but his answer was less enthusiastic than I expected it to be. Bah freakin’ humbug to that.
So in memorium, please send large cash donations to me at my Swiss Bank Account address to help me get over my anguish by drowning myself in expensive liquor and designer drugs.
May she R.I.Z. (Rest In peeZe.)
