Oh Christ, Im really learning to hate photographers and art directors. Here I am, punting a 260 kW 200SX hotrod, with a similarly tweaked APS RT-Spec WRX and a race-spec Integra Type R in tow, and were weaving in and out of peak-hour Melbourne traffic because Trev the art director, who dresses like Ali G and thinks hes black, wants an urban landscape as a backdrop.
I’ll urban landscape the little bastard.
Later. But right now I’m dodging taxis, trying to keep three cars
in formation (I’m wing man) for the photographer and getting increasingly
frustrated as my stress levels rise. In the background - somewhere
- I can hear a siren. Please, please let it be an ambulance.
Not that a big rash of blue lights would
surprise me right now; not one of these cars is what you’d call subtle
to look at, and the Subaru is the only one that would get within Billy-Oh
of passing a drive-by noise test (in fact, the Sube is fully ADR-legal).
And another thing (you listening Trev?):
what the hell would you be thinking trying to use tools like these in a
city environment? If ever a bunch of rockets deserved a squiggly
ribbon of hotmix to play on, this is that bunch. Urban environment
my big, hairy white arse. |