Your fist clenches and your hand shakes as you think about the one thing in the world that gets you heated the most: Phil Lectrum and his fucking quartet. You are in the number 17 car. He is in the 17c car. Fuck that piece of shit using the same number as you, even breathing the same air as you! You vow that in this race he will meet his demise. You talk to Billy about what could be done to the car to perform a headon 100mph t-bone into Phil's Accordian car #17c. He does some modifications, which you look over, and agree to. Kyle Dearbone is hesitant on the subject matter but fuck it, this is it. You do some high grade coke from your shotgun, kiss Amelia goodbye, get in and make your way to the pit. A roar from the crowd ensues louder as you enter the ring. This is what the fans have been waiting for! You...