You were picking up food from a diner. When you get out to the parking lot you see a guy looking at your car. A 69’ Volkswagen bug. You approach.

“Is this your car?” The guy asks. When you nod he continues. “You don’t race in this thing do you?” He says pointing to the number painted on the front and sides and racing stripes. “These are just decorative right?”

“No.” You munch a fry. He starts laughing.

“Oh come on. There’s no way this thing is faster than say a souped up Chevrolet.

“Oh but it is.” You retort. “That yours?” You point at a 1967 Chevy Impala.

“Yeah that’s my baby. Faster than your ride for sure. No one beats my baby.” He boasts.

“Prove it.” You challenge.

“Oh you wanna race? Let’s friggin’ race.” You each get in your cars and head to an empty stretch of road. Another man, who introduces himself as Sam, the other man’s brother, holds a flag.

“On your mark!” He shouts. Each of you rev up. “Get set! GO!”