The downfall of Lobo...

[TailWagger]

With my company closed for the week and it being winter here in merry not so old New England, the mind turns to strategies in play for next season. Those of you who frequent these pages are well aware of the jousting that Mr. Lobo and I do. What you might not be aware of is the depth of our struggle which wages far beyond the borders of Trackpedia.

Now understand that I'm an optimist in that I feel there is still a slight chance for the salvation of Herr wolf's immortal soul. Nevertheless, to save him will require extraordinary measures. A month or so ago I detailed these plans in my monthly column in the NER-PCA magazine. I reprint it here to lay my plans on the table to an international audience. More importantly, given the boredom that is the off season, it seems an appropriate time to start a thread that will chronicle the upcoming season's deviltry. This will undoubtedly be a titanic struggle of Good vs. Evil. Choose sides.

Some five years ago, as many of you will know, my decent into moral and financial ruin began. Certainly over this period, though I’ve learned many lessons, I’ve mostly come to realize first hand that societal taboos exist for a reason. Selecting a partner 15 years your junior has indeed been a perilous decision. Your friends turn away embarrassed by your foolishness, strangers look upon you with both envy and trepidation, while family members question your sanity and contemplate the cleanest possible methodology to relocate you to a low cost asylum. The morality of handing the title to one’s soul over to one’s personal harlot aside, I take solace in that while I have sinned, I know that I do not transgress alone. I’ve met many others equally afflicted since joining NER. They, as I, have slowly come to recognize that seldom are such relationships utterly reliable. Thus, this month, with my primary consort in for a brain surgery, I was forced into the arms of a former love to compete at the Zone 1 Autocross and to attend the final DE of the season.

Renewing my acquaintance with the 996, while pleasant, was nevertheless, actually quite unsatisfying. Having been ignored for so long, she did indeed manifest a strong desire to perform well. Nevertheless, despite the rather unexpected class win at Zone on corded tires and some reasonable quick lap times in New Hampshire on street tires, the sad reality is that we now exhibit little passion in our relationship. Of course, it’s me, not her. As beautiful a companion as she is, I can’t help notice she no longer seems as svelte as she did when we first met. Her embrace, particularly in the corners, is now a false one, strained, forced and to be crude about it, for my part, she’s simply no longer firm enough in any of the right places. I know that to please me, she’d gladly go under the knife, but I won’t allow her to debase herself in that way, not for the likes of me, at any rate. I’ve already asked and received more from her than I truly deserve.

In this, it dawns on me that I’ve fundamentally changed over these five years. I’ve grown darker, colder, and more moody. That I have turned away from the expected in favor of the exotic has put me of a mind for brandishing mischief far beyond the cockpit of my preferred 911. A lifetime of emulating the good has failed to imbue any permanent rapture. It’s time to be the bad boy for a change. I’m simply no longer content to confine my sociopathic tendencies as merely a common track miscreant. Rather, its time for evil to multiply. It’s time to become virulent. It’s time to infect others with deviant behavior of my own manufacture. And with this momentous decision made to assume the role of Beelzebub, I know just the Jabez Wilson to hound. His name is George and I’m pretty certain he has no idea how to contact Benet’s Daniel Webster for help. As George has termed me his ‘close personal friend and mortal enemy’, I feel fully justified in selecting him as my first victim. Well that and the fact that his car number is 666. This fact can’t be construed as anything other than a personal invite to diabolical conduct. May God have mercy on both our souls?

Over the past few seasons, George has been accumulating year-end hardware at club expense in Class 10. His RSA is a good one, lightly modified, but in recent years competition in that class has been somewhat sparse, so the wins have come perhaps a little easier than is strictly healthy. Idle engines might be the devil’s work, but complacency and vanity shall be the root of my pal’s downfall. Nevertheless, despite my zeal to pleasure myself through the misery of others, it would be untoward for me to mount a full frontal assault. As much as I covet an RSA myself, that path is too expensive and frankly lacks the juicy subtlety required to fully savor each millimeter of my close friend’s collapse. No, I shan’t challenge George head on, though were I to choose to do so, I’ve little doubt, given my new found menace, that I ‘d prevail, if not through skill than through the black arts. As dark forces would need be applied in either case, I’ll take a slimier path in the hope of enhancing the malevolence of the plot by playing puppeteer and willing unsuspecting others to do my bidding.

You might well ask how anyone would be foolish enough to be seduced into such a plot on my behalf. Might he hire a pro? Pay off the G-man’s mechanic? No, nothing so crass. Instead, in a stroke of pure wickedness, I have contrived to morph two innocents into dear George’s assassins. This shall be no crime in a moment of passion. It’s first degree murder, fully calculated, brewed slowly, crafted to be realized only in the fullness of time. I’ve spent this entire season educating and training this duo to this purpose and whether they know it or not, they are very nearly fully prepared for the unspoken task at hand. But the butter cream atop this devil’s food cake, particularly after my recent rant on the capabilities of the opposite sex in motorsport, is that the pair are sisters and they arrived in my lap completely equipped with their own RSA. Perfect. Two sultry femme fatales loaded for bear and just dying to do the killing for me. A pair of Uma Thurman’s hell bent on revenge for crimes never even contemplated, let alone committed. And yes, like Bill, poor George knows full well these two are drawing ever closer even now. He knows their names and he knows that someday in the very near future they will come for him. I put his chances of surviving their onslaught somewhat below the likelihood of me picking up Michael Schumacher’s seat at Ferrari next year. As I peer into the hapless future of my friend, what do I see? Motons, Kumho 710s and a limited slip diff at the very least. Many $$$ wasted.

And so, uncharacteristically, I face the interminable aggravation of this winter’s off season with glee. Whereas in the past, the dropping of leaves signaled that I would soon be consumed by the lonely pain of rebuild costs, the wondering if the car would be ready in time for spring, the gloom of the mounting receipts with no seat time to show for them, now I’ve a diversion. This winter, I shall not be alone. This winter my sufferings will be shared. And this spring, when my ninja’s unsheathe their katanas, I shall bathe in the blood of a close personal friend and mortal enemy. Ahhh… it’s so much more fun playing the bad guy.

And so there it is. Yes, Lobo will whine about this or that. He'll rant about the utter lack of competition in my own class, conveniently forgetting the couple of FTDs I've racked up regardless. Its fine, should he focus his energy in my direction, all is lost for him. All the more easy for my Amazons. They will roast him alive on a bonfire of old spent R3S05s (EPA permitting). After they feast on his burnt flesh, chew it up and spit it out, we'll see if we can't fashion a new Lobo. But until such time...BWHahahahahaaa....

[Stack]

[jstecher]

Well this was about the last post I expected to read this morning but sure as hell has been the most strangely interesting and confusing one I have read in a real long time!

I am with Stack...let me get my bag of pop corn and sit back and watch the unworldly battle begin to fester during the cold winter months. I can't wait to see this thread unfold.

[Stack]

Originally Posted by jstecher

Well this was about the last post I expected to read this morning but sure as hell has been the most strangely interesting and confusing one I have read in a real long time!

I am with Stack...let me get my bag of pop corn and sit back and watch the unworldly battle begin to fester during the cold winter months. I can't wait to see this thread unfold.

I'm still trying to figure out who's evil and who's good

[Lobo6]

Originally Posted by Stack

I'm still trying to figure out who's evil and who's good

I'm the good guy Stack. TW is the darkly disturbed one. TW is a good writer but sometimes just confuses everyone after they read his "stuff" draped in lingustic over indulgence.

TW had decided before the end of this past AX season that his mission was "Anybody but George in class 10". No doubt annoyed by my perfect record of nine first place finishes in nine events. I'll admitt that I have some serious competition next season as my last win was a margin of just .014 seconds over one of TW's vixens who drives an immaculate blue RS America w/ LSD and Hoosiers. There will be no Motons, Kumho 710's or limited slip on my car next season. There will also be no brooding. I will prevail again next year as usual...so bring it on.

[cavlino]

You guy's are too much I look forward to reading more.

[JimLill]

Originally Posted by Lobo6

I'lingustic over indulgence.

how does that compare to logorrhea?

[Lobo6]

Originally Posted by JimLill

how does that compare to logorrhea?

I got a mild case of that in college, some anti-biototics cleared everything right up.

[TailWagger]

Originally Posted by cavlino

You guy's are too much I look forward to reading more.

Oh...there will be more than reading. I fully expect we'll be posting pix, video, maybe even a DL trace or two. My little minxes are quite photogenic don't ya know!

Who's good, who's evil? Things are never quite that simple, my friends. While I won't pretend to be a choir boy like old 666, its a certainty that his picture hangs in more post offices than mine. As for his whining above, I did warn you. Here's a second prediction. By mid-summer, we'll be experiencing a little stuck piggy squealing as well. Hell, If I've done my job properly, we should be able to see evidence of in-car screaming on the DL G-SUM traces. Failing that, did I mention I'm buying the girls some Katanas?

[kbrew8991]

the "666" on the side of the car kinda gives away good vs evil....