The Final Gear Wacky Races - RACE THREAD.

A crackled message sounds over the radio...

"We have a lock, repeat, we have a lock...firing missile"

SAVE ME JACK BAUER!!!

I'm in a tightly packed group all fighting for the lead of the race (if you're reading this post, consider yourself there), when suddenly the missile strikes, blowing us all into smithereens just minutes before the finish...who will recover and scramble across the line first?
 
being missile proof it doesn't affect me, I take the chance and activate the QBoost again.
 
Coming to the final stretch now, I have to keep that Ford off me, so I play some '70s music to try to distract them, using my old radio I picked up yesterday.

5th is looking good.
 
The Granada's throttle is now jammed slightly, but no mater, as both the bangers are gaining on the faster leading cars who are too busy beating the crap out of each other to be racing hard. The brakes are like sponge, and the tyres are on their last legs, but it's gonna be close!

70s music can be heard in the background, which makes being in a car that can't really stop slightly more relaxing.
 
Jayhawk unfurls the checkered flag and....






FINISH!!!​

:wave::stig::driving::driving::driving::driving::woot::hump::happy::thumbsup::dancinglock::cheers::clap::clap::clap::viper::w00t::banana::canadian::nod::nod:
 
One of my wheels crosses the line...


<shit, 2nd by complete accident...I was responding to LeMansGTR when somehow my wreckage spun across the line>
 
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Having slept for the past few hours in the back, i did not notice that the blundering captain caveman came to a halt on a oil skid and we're not going anywhere. God only knows how long go that was. Time to bring out our secret weapon then methinks.

* Ice radios secret Doom operator Chell just metres from the finish line to fire up the yellow portal, while I wait for the blue portal gun to charge. It is guinea pig powered. Will we make it in time?
 
Except hitting the sheet of ice from that slick grenade. (Final Daihatsu)

With a further boost in power from the push-to-pass function. I overtake the Foremanator. At this point I realize that a M4 carbine isn't going to fit easily through the cat-flap on the cockpit bubble. As such, I reach for a Desert Eagle, chambered for .50 Action express rounds. Firing a round out the window, I hit the Astons rear differential. The car grinds to a halt with the diff trashed (the bullet damaged it, and the diff chewed itself up under power. With the Aston halted, I work furiously to hold off the Foremanator, the two Indians on board angry at having lost their position. My life is made easier when PETA surrounds the Foremanator, shouting at them for animal cruelty. I cruise away.

Edit: Fuck, I spent too much time typing. Oh, well a podium on our debut is a decent start, right? Shi... *runs away from the suddenly livid with anger Clay*
 
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I take a respected seventh place! (Bullet Proof BTW ATG Man)

(Hey wait, IceBone and ATG Man's post doesn't count anymore, yay! I'm fourth!)
 
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Oh no, too late, the Chariot of Doom misses the podium by a guinea pig hair! Methinks the next race will require faster rodents. Ayayay!
 
This is just great. <_<

KaJuN and I were this close to sneaking in for a surprise win with our secret weapon: the marshmallow/purple tomato cannon, but our stupid co-drivers ruined everything! Hitchcock fired the Tesla coil at Abraham Lincoln while he was standing on the Rave 'Raffe! The moron lit all our propane tanks on fire, and the whole thing blew sky-high in a massive array of sparkling lights and blaring Eurodance remixes, and we've landed in various parts of Eastern Europe (I think KaJuN landed in Slovenia :p). Needless to say, we weren't able to finish.





At least I still have some Romano left, though. :D
 
Team Brick-Shothouse now realises that drum brakes don't like long runs, and wipes out the podium finishers parked after the finish line.

Sorry guys. :(
 
Lurker turns on the jackhammer speakers and loudly plays


WEEEEE ARREEE THE CHAAAMPIONS MY FRIEEEENNNDS

Lurker then grabs a sheeps hoof/paw/claw/whatever-its-called and begins to dance with it, staring longingly into its eyes and spinning it around in slow motion.
 
Sounding not unlike a poorly Tie Fighter, the Granada rattles across to whatever, meaning we finished exactly where we started. Brakes come courtesy of a military police car waiting at the line.

It is a great day for teams who spend the first half drunk and the rest crashing or breaking down!

YOU can now win THIS CAR in a forthcoming practical classics magazine competition! or not!
 
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matt2000 said:
Team Brick-Shothouse now realises that drum brakes don't like long runs, and wipes out the podium finishers parked after the finish line.

Sorry guys. :(
Click to expand...

And the new podium finishers are

1st. ME!!!
2nd. Final Daihatsu
3rd: Icebone

:lol::p

Alright have a great night/day everyone! I'm gonna go to bed now, see you in the morning!
 
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