Burnout

PROLOGUE

It was a Saturday afternoon, and the sun hung low as it glowed through the trees as Viola sat on the porch playing Beethoven on her handmade redwood violin, which seemed to glow crimson in the sun. Through her instrument’s song, there was the clicking of a ratchet. On the concrete driveway, Fluke worked on a now well tuned, twin turbo 5.7 litre V8 from ‘03 Dodge Ram 1500. Beside him was a grey rally tuned EVO VIII and behind the rally car was a pearl white ‘74 Challenger with a matte black hood with a HEMI hood scoop. Viola finished and set the violin down, and asked with a smile, “Are you almost finished?”

“Yep,” Fluke chirped before he paused to push his black mane out of his eyes. “I need to cut my mane,” he said with a grin as he began to work. Viola giggled, and trotted over before kissing him on the cheek, before hugging him from behind. “We’ll be having pumpkin soup tonight,” she said.

“Awesome” Fluke said, still grinning. After Viola went inside, Fluke had finished installing the Holly headers and a HKS dual cold air intake. He dropped the engine into the Challenger, and welded the exhausts before putting it in, and hooking it to the six speed manual transmission, and completing his work. Side exit exhausts made it look like a T/A Challenger.

It had black 19" Volk Rays GT-C, an adjustable rear lip spoiler, S.E.V. Marchal fog lights in the grill, and an adjustable front lip spoiler. He put the black hood back on, and put the hood pins back in place. He looked at the Lancer with black BBS LM rims, APR Performance mirrors, S.E.V. Marchal rally lights, a roof scoop, and removed bumpers. It made around 600 hp and was tuned by Viola, who put rally stage training gears on it, and had won the Horsigan Trail rally last year. This Challenger was also made to race. He stared on just as the mail truck pulled up. He noticed the mail mare drop a gold envelope into the mailbox, and trotted over as she left. He withdrew the envelope and opened it to find a letter that said:

Dear Fluke and Viola Wrenchturn, You have been invited to race across the country as a team with Speedy Silverstreak. If you three win, then you will each receive one hundred million bits if you win. If you so choose to participate, then you will meet in New Port City’s port.

He then went inside to show Viola.

MEANWHILE IN THE CANTERLOT RACING SCHOOL

“I swear period three, If you fail this test, you're leaving my school to cry into your trust funds.” Speedy said at the young teenage students who were nervous standing in front of their teacher. Behind him sat a cream colored 1971 Chevrolet Monte Carlo equipped with a Mitchell Hardcore 632 engine, Richmond T-10 4 speed transmission, and a Moser 12 bolt rear end sitting on 13 inch Cragars on Hoosier street slicks.

“Wickerson!” a cream colored unicorn with a black and white mane stepped forward shaking. “In the car, three laps, if you go under a hundred at all you fail. Got it?!” Speedy said at the unicorn who quickly saluted and ran to the car. Within three seconds the car was gone with a puff of smoke.

Speedy sighed as the local mailmare flew towards the school. He smiled at the wonky eyed mare as she smiled back and handed him his mail. Speedy sighed as he saw the top of the pile a notice from the city board. Since the incident with Fluke, the police had cracked down on Speedy which caused him to go into debt. Unfortunately due to lack of evidence the city apologized for the harshness but refused to pay him back. As he tucked the envelopes away he noticed a golden one within the pile.

As he read it his eyes widen in shock. ‘They want me to race again and for a higher reward?!’ Speedy thought ‘I can pay off the school and not get this place shut down!’ Speedy quickly went and waved down the driver and called all his students to him. “Kids” he said with a big smile “How would you like to receive some extra credit?”

BACK IN HORSIGAN: 7:30 P.M.

“Fire it up,” Viola chirped. BROOM! The car belched as it roared to life. “It’s alive! ALIVE!!!!” Fluke yelled with a manic laugh. The HID kit shown bright white with the halogens as the car shimmied in idle. The many tiny LED bulbs glowed as one in the bright tail lights. Fluke gave it gas, and it screamed past 9,000 rpms before there was a puff and a hiss from the blow off valves as he let off of the gas. “Sounds good,” Viola shouted. BROOM, the car belched once again as he killed the ignition. “Did you test the battery kill switch,” she asked as she looked at the butchered dashboard of switches, gauges, and wires.

From a package from the same sender, was a GPS that was installed to the left of the Sparco steering wheel. Viola had installed the GPS she got on her Lancer, and had fitted a spare tire on the roof rack. Both cars had fuel cells filled with high octane for the race, and camping gear just in case. “Next Friday,” Viola said with a faraway look in her eyes, “Here to Coltifornia.” “Yep,” Fluke said as they gazed at their cars. “Promise me you'll be careful,” she said with a longing gaze at her buck. “I’ll be by your side at the end. I promise,” he said as she hugged him. They then turned and went inside for the night.

“Is there such a thing as too far, in a game where the only perspective that matters are theirs and not yours? Will you push the boundaries of your own psyche to win? It’s your choice detective”- The Needle Nose Killer ‘60

BURNOUT: A Story By Speedy Silverstreak and Oliver Hellfire
Reptilia, The Strokes

Thanks to our readers, and Mystic Moon for his/her friendship.