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The next morning, I was up early. Shelby was still asleep, so I dressed quietly and then pulled up my laptop to do a little research about the Street Rivals championship. According to what I read on the Dream Matches website, the Runoff was for twin turbocharged cars ranging from the year 1960 to the year 1999. The requirements said that there were no restrictions for the race other than that the cars had to be Twin Turbocharged. It was a drag race consisting of three, mile and a half heats and to win you had to place first in two of three heats.

It also looked as if this race was open to any Tuner car and not just the Great Eight. I scrolled down the page and clicked on an article that read "2,000 horsepower Chevy Caviler smokes Great Eight and takes home gold trophy, driver planing 2,750 horsepower for 2015 return."

The article said that the driver had a heavily modified Inline Seven under the hood that was churning 2,003 at the crank and nearly 1.9K horsepower to the rear wheels. The car did 0-60 in under two seconds and according to this, once beat a Top Fueler off the line. He'd also once called out a Bugatti Veyron and won.

"Well if it's a drag race", I thought to myself, "but 700 horsepower is a powerhouse..."

"Hmm?", Shelby asked waking up.

"Morning my love", I said kissing her cheek.

"Morning to you too", she said smiling and returning my kiss, "what are you doing?"

"Researching the next race", I replied, "it's a drag race for Street Rival cars."

"Street Rival?", Shelby asked.

"Fancy name for Tuner cars", I replied, "from what I'm reading, it looks like it wont be just the Great Eight racing this race."

"What will you be up against?", she asked.

"Anything with parts in it", I replied, "I'm looking at last year's race and it was a rear wheel drive Chevy Caviler that took home gold. This says the driver was planing 2,750 horsepower for this year."

"That's more than Joe's car", Shelby said, sounding some what worried.

"No", I replied, "Joe's GT-ONE makes six thousand horsepower, as much as three of those cars.

She looked worried.

"Hopefully we won't have to race him", I said trying to reassure her, and myself.

I put away the laptop as Shelby went to take a shower. The water had barely come on when DJ banged on my door.

"Seth come on!", the races start in two hours.

"Why does she get up so early?", Shelby asked.

"No idea", I replied, "I think she secretly drinks octane in her water."

Shelby laughed. She quickly showered off and dressed. We flipped on our cloakers and walked down stairs where everyone was waiting.

"DJ wake you up too?", Josh asked.

"Not really", I replied, "I was up researching the race when the bombs began to fall."

Josh laughed, "she never lets us sleep in."

"Girls high on something", Jack said, "maybe she's secretly a robot and it's all like "sleep mode deactivated, must troll humans". Jack made a stupid robotic voice.

"Shut it jack", Tess said, "one annoying thing is bad enough."

"Here's a thought", I said, "let's go to the race and put some of this energy to the drag strip?"

"It's a drag race?", Jack asked.

"Yeah", I said as we walked out and climbed in the Ford, "I pulled it up this morning. It's a three heat, 6.0 mile race where any Tuner car can race."

"So we'll be facing other cars than the Great Eight?", Josh asked.

"Ranging from a 90 Camaro to a 2000 Chevy Caviler making 2,750 horsepower", I replied.

"We don't have the....anything really", Jack said, "to take on a power plant on wheels."

"Let's hope he doesn't show then", I said sighing.

I was worried the whole way to the track about that Chevy. If it showed up, we were screwed, we'd lose that race for sure. We arrived at the Sunset Drag Strip about ten minutes after leaving the hotel. I could see a crap load of wide-bodied Tuner cars ranging from FWD Integreas to Toyota Supra's and Nissan 370's. I saw the new Supra, Firebird, GTO and Camaro sitting near the bleach box.

"Where's our IROC?", I asked as I unbuckled my seat belt and slid out of the Ford.

"In the race garage", Jack said, "I'll go get it and register us."

I nodded as he ran towards a tall metal building. While the others spread out, I went to look at the cars. It wasn't the usual cars that turned up at Drag Week at your local drag strip. These were all kinds of Tuner cars with wide wheelbases, swapped engines and lots of custom work. As I looked around, I spotted Joe looking at a red and white 98 Supra.

"Joe", I said walking up to him.

"Hey Seth", he said, "your up early."

"Well the races start early", I said, "your up early too."

"I didn't even sleep last night", Joe replied, "I was up all night last night screwing with the gears in my Mustang. Somebody didn't want me racing today and completely scrambled my set up. It was so bad I decided it wasn't worth it, restored the stock set up and sold it."

"You sold that monster?", I asked.

"Yeah", Joe replied sipping a soda, "guy who bought it came for it this morning."

'Sorry man", I said.

"For what?", Joe asked, "Mustangs are crap. Wasn't like I was attached to it or anything. I just drove it cause it trolled people. I can do that with Falcon now, so the Mustang needed a new home."

"Ah", I answered, "so what are you gonna be racing today?"

"I ain't racing today", Joe said, "didn't get any sleep last night, probably won't get any tonight, haven't eaten anything since I hit CA and to top it off, I'm outta soda. I'm gonna go get some more, see you from the stands."

I watched him leave as Jack came back.

"Were registered for the first race", he said, "let's go."

I followed Jack over to the tarmac and we suited up.

"All racers to your cars", the voice cracked over the loud speaker.

"Not a minute too soon", I said as I slid into the Camaro. I shut the door behind me and buckled up the racing harness. I flipped two switches labeled "Primer 1 and Primer 2 and then flipped a switch labeled "ignition." The Camaro rattled to life as our opponent, a Toyota Supra 93, rolled to the starting line. I rolled up to the line and stared out over the track. The morning sun making a heat a mirage just under a large overhang with a "Johnsonvile Sausage", ad underneath it. The light went red. I revved the Camaro's 2,000 horsepower TT stockcar engine. The lights ticked down to yellow and I gave the engine another rev.

"Ready?", Jack asked.

"As I'll ever be", I replied gripping the steering wheel.

The light went green. I threw the car into first gear and matted it. The tires spun in a burn out before the car lurched forward. The speedometer climbed to 73 miles an hour before I brought my paw off the steering wheel to shift. The RPM jumped down to 4,000 as the transmission changed to second gear. The Supra behind me was keeping a good pace with us as he went into second as well.

My RPM's continued to climb as I hit 121 miles an hour and started to red line. The Turbos had come on and the car was leaving a deranged hiss in it's wake. I hammered the car all the way to ten thousand and let it hammer a bit before I shifted to third. The Supra was starting to fall behind now, but not by much. If his Turbos came on, he could over take me easily as his engine was hauling around less car. I hit 163 miles an hour before I had to shift again and the turbos clicked off. You didn't get much out of that Stock Car under the hood until you hit about 4,300 RPM and the turbos came on. Once they did, it launched. Thankfully though, once you were in fourth in this Camaro, the turbos stayed on, so now I was getting the boost through the entire torque band.

It seemed like it wouldn't be enough though as the Supra was catching me pretty quickly.

"How is he keeping up?", Jack asked as I hit fourth.

"I don't know", I replied, "let's just hope he's not packing 1,000 horsepower. If he is then we've already lost!"

I hit fifth gear at 178 miles an hour and the Supra was starting to fall behind again. The mile and a half finish was starting to come into view now and I still had one gear left, so I had to play it right. The RPM's slowly climbed, soon the needle was hovering dangerously close to the 10,000 rev ceiling. I didn't shift.

"Seth what are you doing!?", Jack shouted over the motor, "shift now!"

"Not yet!", I replied, "Just wait!"

I watched the Supra behind me inch closer, closer and closer still until he was right on us. The engine was grinding the tranny now, shouting at me to shift.

"SETH!", Jack shouted.

I placed my paw on the shifter as the Supra entered sixth gear. Two seconds later, I did the same and the Camaro flew across the finish line at nearly 250 miles an hour. I pulled the E-Brake and started to downshift to slow down the car.

"What was all that about?", Jack asked.

"Gear grinding", I replied turning the car around, "I waited until the Supra had to go to sixth and top out before I shifted. That stupid restriction plate cut our power so much I had to grind out every last bit of speed from each gear. Before the next heat, that silly little thing comes off."

Our time for the 1.5 Mile was about 45 seconds while the Supra ran in at 47. If we could keep a two second lead over every car, then we would place first in the Street Rivals Drag Championship. Two more races with the Supra followed. Our quickest time against the Supra was the 44 second and our longest was 46.8. In the end of the heat, we won three of the four races, and only then after our Camaro popped a gasket after we removed the restriction plate.

Heat two pitted us against a dope 87 Firebird, Joe's Firebird actually and Ross was behind the wheel. Sorta bad news. At least with the Supra, we were able to remove the restriction and get more wheel horsepower. I had driven that car and knew that we were in for the drag mile of our lives. The light dropped and the two American heavyweights shot from the line. My Camaro was faster to accelerate and shift than the Firebird was, but I now realized that the Firebird was running a Dual Clutch Automatic, and the kind that allowed stick shift our vacuum actuated auto shift at a preset point. I assumed how I could see Ross moving in the rear view, he was running it automatic. Problem. Automatics tend to switch faster than a manual which left me, even though I had more horsepower, he could shift faster and start accelerating that much sooner. We ended up loosing the first race by at least a 300 foot gap at a 45 lap time while Ross was faster at 44.3. We did better in the second-fourth runs, taking first place by about a 100 feet on average and then very well on the fifth heat when I swapped for drag slicks and placed in at 42.1

The last and final race was that Chevy Caviler. It was a wide-bodied, Inline Seven (Inline Seven's carry themselves a certian way. I know it sounds werid, but the motor has a very disticnt, signiature length) with racing slicks rather than drag and there was a huge custom, metal wing standing over the back. It was also one of the loudest cars I'd ever heard. It had a very cammy sound when it was idling and the cockpit was still fully done. It was one of the highest, most venomous, scariest car's I'd ever laid my eyes on. The car was basically sitting a half inch from the ground and honestly looked like it would look at a Bugatti Veyron and just go. "meh. I'm faster, lighter, better, scarier."

The second the light was green I was off. The other Chevy fought for traction at first, but then quickly started closing the gap. I relined first gear all the way to 10K RPM and the shifted into second as the Chevy hit second as well. The rate at which the Caviler was closing the gap was ludicrous. It wasn't even a car. It was just a motor that was dragging a piece of metal down a track. At 147 miles an hour, I got third. I ground it all the way to eleven hundred RPM and then hit fourth at 173. Fifth came at 200 and sixth at 240. Even at 244 miles an hour the Caviler was still ganging.

"We'll never shake this guy!", I shouted over the roar of my own engine.

"The finish line is 200 feet out!", Jack said, "come on Chevy! Just a little more..."

Right on that note we crossed the finish line at 41.9, the other Chevy at 42 dead.

"Point one seconds", Jack said laughing as I started to slow down.

"By the scales on my arms", I laughed downshifting to fourth.

"Thinner that that", Jack said as I turned the car around, "like, by a hair."

"I'm just glad Joe's not in this with that 3,000 horsepower Mustang", I said as we drove back to the starting line, "we'd may as well have been burned at the stake if he was racing."

The other three races were as close as they came. The Chevy won the next race, and then we won lap three. With two, 2,000 horsepower cars going for the lead and the points towards the festival finale, our Camaro and the Caviler threw down one last time.

It was sheer luck that the Caviler threw a rod half way through the race. I almost felt guilty winning that race, but hey, stuff happens. At the end of the Race, the Ref came out.

"That concludes the Street Rivals Twin Turbocharged Dragstrip Runoff. Team Falcon is still in the lead with 20 points and Team Draco places second with 15. The next race, the Adui Vs Supra Street Car Rear Wheel Drive Shootout will take place in two hours after a lunch. Until then please enjoy yourselves."