Just some Good ol' Boys...

A bad day at the Drag Strip

Europe is embroiled in some kind of strange war. There have been reports of a new Pope and some weired Tights and Capes type super villains in Northern Africa. There have even been tales of magic and Dragon’s over London. Here in Commerce, GA… that dog just don’t hunt.

Its business as usual and the family business here is Racin’ (not racing). My nephews are better’n most. They put together this monster of a street rod on the chassis of a 1992 Ford Taurus SHO. They dropped the block and polished the ports on that beautiful Yamaha 3.0 V6 and put an after market turbo, modded the original tranny and installed a slap shifter. After the AR 15 × 10′s were added to the rear and the 15 × 7′s they had completed the Green Goat. A force to be reckoned with at Commerce’s drag strip.

When it came time for the street legal modification tournament they loaded her up from the family estate in cosmopolitan Jefferson, GA and eased up 29 to the Strip. The heats were no sweat they plowed through a Supra in the first one and took care of a beautiful Super Bird in the second. The semi-final against a 5.0 Stang form the mid 80’s was a little closer. The final was against this weird lookin fella that resembled Panama Jack.

He was drivin this strange contraption that looked kinda like a Doosey combined with a commercial boiler. It had pipes and whirlygigs commin out of it all over the place. To be honest it was a bit unsettlin. He gave ’em a good race but ultimately the giddiup juice Cooter had cooked in to the Goat proved too much for Panama Jack when Dick was behind the wheel.

The Grand Prize was awarded to my boys, a completely cherry film used General Lee with the 440 hemi.

Dick jumped in that Hemi Orange Charger and headed to the Outlet mall to try to make time with this little girl he had his eye on who worked at the Old Navy Outlet. While Dick was thinkin with his little head Cooter and Bill were busy packing up the Goat and gettin her ready for travel.

After being shot down by his personal shopper at Old Navy, Dick Headed for the bar with all the speed the 440 and his better ’n average grasp of controlling this particular mode of conveyance would afford him. Meanwhile Cooter and Bill where heading that same place with a more deliberate pace.

Once they made the turn on to Sceninc Hwy for Jack’s Place they were met by Panama Jack and his road block of soldiers in throw back uniforms. Panama Jack told them to give him the General Lee. Dick politely declined and then things got ugly.

Our homegrown heroes did their best to abscond with all of their vehicular goods intact but they were knocked unconscious and thrown in the back of a truck.

When they awoke they were bound and their heads were covered by sacks.


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