So I work at a local pool hall, earn a meager income, but every now and then I get to meet interesting characters. Case in Point, a weekly regular who plays the tournaments I run. I feel you should know he isn't the typical rich-white ass-wipe who thinks their car is the shit. What he is is dying from a very aggressive level of prostate cancer, and closing in on his 60's in age, but overall a real nice guy. His other ride is a Harley-Davidson, but his main ride is a silver Dodge Magnum SRT-8. As if that wasn't enough, the crazy bastard decided to supercharge it at a local Mopar shop, GS motorsports (in case any of you might know that shop or him). Before the 6.1L Hemi was making a more than adequate 378 hp to the rear wheels (rated 425hp flywheel). I forget the before and after torque specs, but the after hp rating was now a stump pulling 478 hp to the wheels. I would joke with him that he should let me drive it:evil2:. A few days ago I got that wish. Not just feather it either, he let me hammer the throttle and floor it. I personally had never driven anything greater than 300whp before that experience. The car began to fishtail a little bit as I held on tight, and as it straightened out pushed me back into the seat to the point where I couldn't even lift my torso away from the seatback. It just smoooshes you into the seat. I had made a slow drive down the street earlier to see if it was safe enough to make a full throttle pass, with no pedestrians, cars, or cops. I don't want to say exactly how fast I went down the street, but needless to say the quickness with which the car attained speed was astounding, and I had to back off as I was taken by surprise how fast I was actually going. Some might deride me and say I was stupid, and I'd accept that. But when I feel that power rush, and logic tends to blur a bit. I was already ready to go back, even though he asked if I wanted to try the freeway or something. I had enough for that day, but man, what a monster...
