You’ve got Vin Diesel on speed-dial. Your car’s vanity plate reads “Danger”, but only because there isn’t enough space to add the words “to manifold”. Your left sneaker’s sole is worn down to the canvas from the 10-million gear changes you perform every quarter-mile (double-clutching, not granny shifting, naturally). And your car’s footwells have an extra layer of welding just in case the bolts start undoing themselves (because that just happens to every modified Mitsubishi Eclipse in a street race every time that shot of nitrous hits, right?).
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