Sliding into first, Dash’s mind should be on the race, but all he can think about are Madeline’s ample bosoms. Those words she had spoke to him in the pit before the race rang through his ears like a 7 car pile up at the Minnesota Speedway.
“If you win this race Dash, you’ll not only have the key to the Cool Ranch Dorito Dodge Charger but also the key to my heart.”
“What could she have been talking about” thought Dash as he made the left turn. Surly she couldn’t have been filled with the 5000cc’s of lust that he was feeling. His heart felt like it was going to burst into a thousand smaller pieces of heart. He knew that if he could just stay in first perhaps Madeline’s affections would not be for naught.
As he made another left turn. Dash began feeling doubts about the whole situation. After all, it was just yesterday he made love to Madeline’s mother Matilda in the team’s wind tunnel testing facility. He had never known the cool passionate embrace of an older woman before and he madly desired to park his chassis in her transmission again. She had taught him what it meant to be a winner and he knew he couldn’t turn his back on her now.
As he made another left turn, Dash’s heart began to be panged with guilt. He knew that he was betraying the trust of his mentor, Roy Buckman, by having elicit affairs with both his wife and potentially his daughter. Roy had taught Dash everything he knew and here was Dash spitting it all back in his face like shotty batch of Penzoil. The pain of it was tearing Dash apart. If he didn’t keep his honor, what had those five Nextell championships really mean.
“Squat, that’s what” thought Dash as he made another left turn. He knew the only things a man really has of value are his word and his American brand car. All the same, though, he longed to feel the warm touch of Matilda’s experienced hands. “What a grip she had!” thought Dash. “I bet she could loosen a 1996 Ford Fiesta factory sealed lugnut with those hands” He had never known a women as assured and confident as Matilda before and he mourned all the minutes they spent apart.
As he made another left turn, Dash started to form a dastardly idea in the back of his head. “Maybe I should just kill the old man” he thought. They spent so much time alone together in the shop, it would be very simple to fake an accident. One false slip of the soldering iron and Matilda would be his. One dropped engine block and the special place between he thighs would be his forever. It would all be so natural. He would just need to swoop in to fill the hole left in her heart by the absence of her husband. It would be as simple as picking up an endorsement from a third grade vacuum manufacturer. She would be his and he would be able to take the marital victory lap every single night and sometimes in the afternoon.
“NO!!!” He shouted as he made another left turn. He couldn’t be thinking these thoughts. He was a virtuous young man from the real America. He had been raised better than this. It wasn’t like Roy was a dirty border crosser. He didn’t deserve to be killed on sight. He was a devoted family man who had voted straight down the line Goldwater, Nixon, Ford, Reagan, Bush, Dole, and Bush again. A true man of virtue who loved the Christian God and his country, Roy would never hurt a fly unless it was trying to socialize his medicare.
“Something wrong Dash?” asked Tommy in Dash’s headset as the Cool Ranch Dorito #42 car made another left turn.
“No, everythings fine” said Dash. “I just have to get my head out of the skids and into the win”
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