Budget Rider™ Archives - Vol Xll

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The Nürburgring Diaries Budget Rider™ Archives
Vol Xll

So here is another volume of Pulitzer Prize winning essays for your delictation.

Enjoy.

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From: Soulidarity | Posted: 11/28/2005 5:32:29 AM | Message Detail

This weeks Budget Rider:

The Nurburgring Diary Zone
You wake up to find that you've survived a plane crash unscathed,but the crew and the rest of the passengers are nowhere to be found. In your lap is a stack of 40,000 dollars/euros/credits. You exit the plane and look around, discovering that you are in a small German town outside of the famed Nurburgring Nordschleife. But something is seriously wrong. There are no people. You enter a cafe to look around, only finding more of the same, when you hear a car pull up out front. Rushing outside you find a mysterious man getting out of his Toyota
Altezza Touring Car. He explains to you that you've slipped into a dead space in time during the crash, and offers you a one shot deal to get back to your own time. He will drive his touring car for one lap around the ring, then you will drive the production car of your choice with all the modifications you can afford. If you beat him, he'll allow your return home. He then hands you a non-descript key, and tells you to decide what car you wish to drive and take a
look around the corner, where you'll find said car in new condition.

So here's the challenge:

Run a lap with the Altezza Touring car. You can do it in B spec if you wish, but I strongly encourage you take the role of the mystery man and drive it A spec to challenge yourself. Then take your own production vehicle, use 40,000 to modify it, and attempt to beat the Altezza's time.

The conditions:

The car you choose is free.

There is a limit on horsepower in this dead space in time, and no car can exist over 360 HP. This means that you can not use a car that starts with more than 360 HP, nor can you modify a car beyond that point.

Driving aids also do not exist here. I know that most, if not all of us,
regularly turn aids off, but for anyone who does not necessarily do this, you must do it for this challenge.

Since your car of choice comes in new condition, oil change, car wash, and rigidity refresher are free. You can also put wheels on your car for free if you wish.

You weigh something, so you must add driver ballast to your vehicle. If you don't currently do this, and you're not sure how much you weigh in kg, you can use the following website for a quick conversion:

www.manuelsweb.com/kg_lbs.htm

If you crash into the armco, you must use your better judgement as to whether or not it has ended your run. Obviously if you run headfirst into the armco at 130, you die, and never make it home. If you lightly brush the armco, you can decide for yourself whether or not the damage is extensive enough to keep you from
continuing. Driving off into the grass is ok, but grass cuts are not. If you cut across grass with the intention of gaining time, the mystery man will know, and he'll be long gone when you pull across the finish line, leaving you stranded here forever.

Have fun!
---

From: Soulidarity | Posted: 11/28/2005 5:36:02 AM | Message Detail

btw, thanks to muse for being a huge assistance in helping me settle on how to
budget this in order to balance between challenging and fair.




From: wanderingmuse22 | Posted: 11/29/2005 3:40:39 PM | Message Detail

It may be a day or two before I get to challenge the "Mystery Man" BR, but he set a 7'19 time for me to beat in the Altezza Touring. He left muttering that it was almost quick enough to win the 24 hours. Perhaps it is, but my work is cut out for me.
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From: viperinthegrass | Posted: 11/29/2005 4:38:42 PM | Message Detail

BR™

Doo Dee Doo Dee Doo Dee Doo Dee, Greetings from the Diary Zone!
I made a start on the (Twilight) Zone last night. I sent Bob off to do his thing (at speed 4 ) while I cooked Tea, then checked replay to see he had done a 7 ' 44 . 175
I then did a lap myself before going to bed; following Muses advice I took Flugplatz and Schwedenkreuz flat chat ( and many others thereafter ). I was having so much fun I forgot about being conservative and ended up peeling off a 7 ' 10 . 913 –
Holy Snapping Duck****!!
What a great Car, the fast guys are going to love this one. I reckon pound for pound this would have to be one of the best handling Cars I have come across so far, what a Gem.
Having made a rod for my own back I will today attempt to better that time ( pigs fully fuelled and ready for take off !)
I am then going to do some more laps with the Altezza to see how much time I can shave off.


From: Soulidarity | Posted: 11/30/2005 7:48:58 PM | Message Detail

My official run in the Altezza clocked me at a 7'17.901. I actually got too comfortable due to this cars "on rails" handling, went into a few corners too hot, and hurt my time. But I have to say that this car is absolutely amazing.
You can take Schwedenkreuz and several other corners without even thinking about your brake pedal, something that very few cars can even approach. The Pflantzgarten straight almost feels like driving on a true straight.

Essentially, I would liken most cars that we've driven to either a mule or a rodeo bull. The understeerish cars are the mules, stubborn beasts that tell you no when you tell them to turn. They'd rather headbutt the armco than make that
left. The oversteerish cars are the rodeo bulls. Wild beasts that will throw their tails in whichever direction they feel, and if you aren't ready for it, they'll toss you. The Altezza Touring Car is a well trained stallion. It goes where you tell it to go with hardly a complaint. And it goes quickly. It does have a very slight understeerish tendency (remnants of its bucking bronco days
perhaps?), but nothing that can't be reigned in with a little TLC.

My only complaint is how poorly the gearbox is set up. It is FC, though, so tweaking it to find a more optimal set up would not be a major project. In stock form, you'll likely never leave fourth gear, even down the D-H, and the Altezza's overall acceleration and speed suffer due to its poor gearbox configuration. Other than that, its a sweet ride.

Tomorrow I plan to scour the dealers for a steed capable of taking me through the Diary Zone.



From: viperinthegrass | Posted: 11/30/2005 10:41:36 PM | Message Detail


Nürburgring Diary Zone BR™

It was a dark and stormy night and our Qantas jet was being tossed around as if it was some giant baby's rattle. “This can't be good “ I thought as a particularly savage bolt of lightning tore the left wing off. Suddenly the world became white and fluffy, as if the plane was suddenly full of cotton wool, “Come to the light” I heard an ethereal voice say.
I know good advice when I hear it, so I did.

As I waded through the cottony air the scene shifted, I felt as if I had been turned inside out, and I was no longer struggling inside the plane but walking through a green and pleasant landscape, full of trees and hills. It seemed somehow familiar and my amazement was complete when I saw a large sign which read “ Achtung Ring Besucher”Somehow I was now standing in the pit lane of the Nurburgring. WTF!
I looked around and I knew instinctively that I was the only person here, was I dead? hallucinating? It was all very strange but I felt no fear.
As I pondered , I became aware of a strange shimmering in the air in front of me, and with a loud pop, a snazzy little Touring Car appeared.

“Hey Dude, how they hanging” said the driver as he got out. “I'm afraid there has been a bit of a stuff up at head office, it seems that you have ended up in the wrong dimension”. “Oh well” I thought, “that's better than karking it”. “You're telling me” said the mystery man, who I now noticed was wearing a Rainbow coloured driving suit, which I could not quite focus on.
Handing me a strangely insubstantial key, he said “are you up for a challenge? if you can beat the 7 ' 10 . 913 I did in the Altezza there, with any car you choose, I will send you home hale and hearty”. As I stood there trying to take this all in, a memory popped into my head, unbidden, of my Fathers mid – life crisis Car.
And suddenly, there it was, in front of us, a '96 Chevrolet Corvette Grand Sport.
“I will take that as a yes then” said the mystery man.
Of all the Cars I could have thought of, why my Dad's Car? It even had the silly wing, fat R3 tyres and BBS 14 wheels he'd fitted. All up he had spent 40 k doing up that car with a Racing Exhaust and Chip, Twin Plate Clutch, Semi Racing Flywheel, Stage 2 flab reduction and a roll cage. “And yes, before you ask it puts out 358 hp and has no driver aids”.

“Oh well that was something” I thought as I eased my 105 kg bulk into the Red Leather Recaro Racing seat. With a rolling start and the mystery man clicking his stop watch at the line, I roared off. Hmm, the old girl dont handle too bad once you get used to the brakes wanting to make it swap ends, nice and stable on the road and it turns in nicely with some feathered braking. The R3's certainly help it stick and the weight still on it helps the stock suspension smooth out the worst bumps somewhat. Hey that was fun I thought as I crossed the finish line unscathed.
The mystery man checked his watch and smiled, “ 7 ' 10 . 577 dude, nice work, Okay, a deal is a deal, you beat me fair and square, I can send you home now”.
I stood there at the finish line, the car steaming slightly in the strange, perpetual afternoon light, turning that magical key over in my fingers, “if its all the same to you, I would rather stay here” I said as a beautiful Red E – Type Jaguar appeared in place of the Chev.
The mystery man laughed, and then with a faint pop, was gone.

First Lap attempt at challenge - 7 ' 20 . 165
Second Lap - 7 ' 11 . 869
Third Lap of three tries - 7' . 10 .577
No crashes or shortcuts.
TRY THIS CAR


From: oldguy1957 | Posted: 12/1/2005 9:10:17 PM | Message Detail

The Nurb Zone

The Altezza is a very nice handling car. Mr. Weightless Mystery Man turned a first, cautious lap of 7'17.233. I thought the ride deserved a second lap, pushing it a bit harder. I was about six seconds ahead of the ghost car on the second lap when I dropped a tire off into the grass on the exit of the mini-karussell and spun. I found that the Altezza doesn't like curbs or grass at all, and quickly loses adhesion to the road if you come in contact with either.

I decided to stick with the 7'17 instead of going for another lap. I think times close to the 7-minute mark would be possible if one were to take the time to get used to the car.

I took a walk through my garage and found that the Nissan Gran Tourismo 350 Z had the hp I was looking for, listed at exactly 300. I went to the mods screen, and it said that a Stage 2 NA tuneup would put me exactly at the maximum 360 hp.
So, I went with that, some R3 tires, a racing flywheel to get it to shift a little quicker, and a wing, bringing my total expenditure to 38,450 cr.

To my surprise, when I got to the track, the game showed 376 hp. I immediately took it to be a mistake, though, because cars with over 360 hp don't exist in "The Nurb Zone", and my Z obviously DID exist, because it was sitting there right in front of me!

I believe that when the GT Z was the WR™, I described it as being "boring". Well, the extra hp, wing and R3 tires made it much less so. It was a very fast and fun ride. I easily turned a lap at 7'05.272, without ever once venturing off the track.

I guess I cheated by exceeding the 360 hp limit. But it was completely unintentional. And, realistically, if I had been able to "tune out" that last 16 hp, I'm pretty sure I could have beat the Mystery Man's time, anyway.
BTW, I at first misread the rules and didn't realize the car we chose had to be a production car. The Peugeot 205 Turbo 16 Rally Car has 350 hp, so I used that with just the addition of R4's. That car has a VERY loose back end!! I killed myself at Flugplatz, and then just got up to full speed in time to kill myself
again at Schwedenkruez.

I was going to invoke the T2 exemption (ah...I'm sure it's in the fine print somewhere), that states clearly that – “ if you kill yourself twice before T2 you get reincarnated as yourself and get to retune your car and try again”. I removed all the downforce from the front of the car, which made it driveable if you're very careful. With two non-lethal grass/armco excursions, I pulled in with a 7'11, which also would have beat Mystery Man's time.

So, I actually won twice by cheating!!
---
A.K.A. Don Papa

From: Soulidarity | Posted: 12/3/2005 1:17:27 PM | Message Detail

This highway leads to the shadowy tip of reality: you're on a through route to the land of the different, the bizarre, the unexplainable...Go as far as you like on this road. Its limits are only those of mind itself. Ladies and Gentlemen, you're entering the wondrous dimension of imagination.
Next stop....The Nurburgring Diary Zone.

Soul looked out the window watching the baggage carts as they drove here and there, unloaded luggage, and went back to load up the next flights cargo. The flight attendant was droning on about seatbelts, oxygen masks, and floatation devices, but Soul wasn't listening. Planes rarely crashed, so what were the
chances that his would be the one.

"Hey mister, aren't you that race car driver?" blurted out the little boy in the seat next to him.

"Yes, yes that's me," Soul turned and smiled at the boy.

"Can I have your autograph, mister?"

"Sure thing, kiddo."

The boy removed his ball cap, and handed it to Soul, pointing at the inside of
the bill. Soul pulled down his carry-on, and fished around for a marker, which he had learned to carry around years ago, since there always seemed to be someone wanting him to sign something. Signing his name and the number 34, which appeared on his cars, he put the cap back on the boys head for him with a smile.
"Thanks a bunch, mister," the boy beamed up at Soul.

The plane suddenly lurched into motion, and made its way to the end of the runway, slowly turned around, then began its quick acceleration. As it made its ascent, Soul pulled out his pillow, and drifted off to sleep...

********

Soul's eyes shot open from a sudden jolt. He looked around to find most everyone asleep. The little boy next to him seemed to be happily dreaming about something, his baseball cap still firmly on his head. Only a few now wild eyed passengers were awake.

Probably just turbulence, Soul reassured himself. He looked out the window to try to figure out where they were, but it was starting to get dark and they were above a layer of clouds. He would imagine that they had to be above Europe by now, judging by the time of day, but any more than that was purelyguesswork.
The plane seemed to be flying ok, so he grabbed his pillow, and started to drift back to sleep.

Another huge jolt brought him quickly back to reality. This one seemed much bigger than the last, and the plane was now shaking. Everyone was now wide awake, many in a state of panic. Looking out the window, he noticed a giant tear in the wing. Had they hit something way up here?

"I want my mommy!" screamed the little boy.

Soul tried to comfort him, draping his arm around the boy's shoulders, pulling him close."It'll be ok. ssssssshhhh..."

A third jolt, and the plane suddenly went wildly out of control, pitching violently forward into rapid descent. As the plane lurched and swayed, everyone struggled to get their seatbelts latched into place and put their oxygen masks on. Soul helped the boy with his seatbelt and mask, then pulled himself out of his seat, fighting his way towards the cockpit. A flight attendant tried to get him to return to his seat, but he pushed past her. As he reached the cockpit, he found the heavy steel door locked tight. He didn't dare pull the pilots away from their battle, so he turned and headed back towards his seat. The flight attendant yelled something about his seat, but he could hardly hear her over the
noise of the plane. He held on to the seats for dear life as he pulled himself back towards his seat. He looked out the window as he pulled on his seatbelt, and saw the ground quickly approaching. The click of his seatbelt was followed
almost instantaneously by a deafening boom.

*****

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From: Soulidarity | Posted: 12/3/2005 1:18:23 PM | Message Detail

Soul eyes slowly opened. There was a moment of confusion as he temporarily forgot where he was, then it all came rushing back to him. He shot up in his seat, looking quickly around to survey the casualties, and was made instantly aware of a pounding headache. He also found the plane to be completely empty.
Why would they have cleared the plane, but left him here? It didn't make sense.
As he looked down to unbuckle his seatbelt, he noticed a largestack of money sitting in his lap. What the hell? Was this supposed to be some kind of compensation for leaving him on the plane? Soul was getting more confused by the minute. He pocketed the cash, and made his way to the exit, checking each and every seat along the way. It was indeed empty.

The exit door itself was still tightly shut. With a little effort, he managed to pop it open, revealing how high he still was above the ground. Soul was sure that there had to be some kind of emergency ramp or something to use in this kind of situation, but he had no idea where it was or how to set it up, so he was going to have to jump. Luckily the grassy field they had "landed" in was
soft.

There was an eerie fog that had settled in for the night, but Soul could see lights from a few buildings a short distance away, and quickly headed off in that direction. As he approached the buildings and a small road, he could see that he was on the edge of a small town. There was a small cafe with its lights on just down the road, and Soul made a beeline for it. The creaky doors were in stark contrast to the dead silence of this town. Soul poked his head inside, looking around, and found the place to be apparently empty.

"Hello?" Soul called out, as he stepped inside. He slowly made his way towards the counter, looking around to make sure that there wasn't someone that he had failed to notice.

"Hello?" he called out again. "Is anyone here?"

Soul leaned over the counter trying to see back into the kitchen.

"Hello?"

Soul heard a distant noise coming from outside. It only took a split second for him to recognize it as the hum of a car's engine. The car was moving fast, as he could hear it quickly approaching. He made his way quickly towards the front, and as he neared the door, he saw a race car come squealing to a stop in front of the cafe. Soul stepped outside to see the driver getting out of the car.

He was dressed from head to toe in black. Black boots, black pants, black shirt, a long black leather trenchcoat, and a black trilby.

"Quite a pickle you've gotten yourself into, hmm?" The man in black mocked.

"What's going on? Where is everyone?" Soul confusedly responded.

The man in black chuckled. "You were involved in a plane crash. A crash in which you were the sole survivor. But for some reason, and I'm not entirely sure how, you managed to slip between moments in time. However, I believe it to be the only reason you survived that crash."

"What? How is that possible? And just who are you, anyways?" Soul demanded.

"To be honest, I'm not entirely sure how it is possible that you've managed to get yourself stuck here. Who, or rather what, I am is not important. What is important is that I would like to give you a chance to return to the normal flow of time."

"A chance?"

"Yes, I have the power to do so, but I would rather see you earn your ticket home. I propose a challenge."

"What does this challenge consist of?" Soul was beginning to get irritated with this mystery man's games.


From: Soulidarity | Posted: 12/3/2005 1:18:54 PM | Message Detail

"Quite simply, you'll be competing to beat my time around the famed Nurburgring Nordschleife. I've already taken my Altezza Touring Car for a lap, and managed a 7'17.901. You can use the production car of your choice, use the money I left you to modify it to the best of your ability, and attempt to beat my time.
There's a auto mod shop just across the street."

The man in black extended his right arm to hand a non-descript key to Soul. Soul cautiously reached out and took it.

"A few words of warning." The mystery man continued. "The nature of this "place" in time makes it impossible for high powered vehicles to run. Nothing over 360 hp will accomplish your goal for you, so choose your vehicle wisely. Also, if
you cheat, I'll know, so I suggest that you don't cheat. I look forward to your attempt to defeat me, Soul." And with that, he climbed back into his car, and sped off into the night, leaving Soul alone once again.

[NARRATOR] A race car driver, known only as Soul, survives a plane crash, only to find himself trapped between moments. A shadowy figure has emerged to issue a challenge. A challenge that would appear to be right up Soul's alley. A challenge that can only take place in the Nurburgring Diary Zone.

Soul thought for a few minutes before deciding on the Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution VIII RS '03. It was a fast, nimble, lightweight vehicle, and seemed to be an obvious choice to take on this challenge. No pure production car had managed ever managed a time that Soul was being forced to beat, but he was allowed modifications that might just put him over the top. He walked around the corner to find his vehicle of choice waiting for him. He brushed his hands along the edge of the hood as he circled to the driver's door. Climbing in, he put his hands on the steering wheel, taking a few deep breaths, then inserted the key, and turned it.

The engine and its 330+ horses roared to life. Soul smiled, released the parking brake, and drove it back around the corner to the mod shop, pulling into the garage. Climbing out and entering the office, he found, to his surprise, the mysterious man behind the counter.

"Ah, good evening, Soul," he said with a knowing smile. "And what can I help you with tonight?"


From: Soulidarity | Posted: 12/3/2005 1:20:06 PM | Message Detail

Somewhat irritated to see the man in black again so soon, he quickly rattled off the parts that he wanted on his Evo: A Racing Intercooler, Stage 1 Weight Reduction, R3 tires, a wing, an FC Transmission, and a Racing Flywheel. In the end it managed to wiegh just over 1200 kg and stayed just under the hp cap at
357, and he even had a few hundred left from his stack of cash. Soul got directions to the track and wasted no time making the trip.

Soul had always dreamed of driving the 'ring, but this was not exactly what he had imagined. Despite all his time behind the wheel, he had always competed for money, for glory. This time he was competing for his right to exist. His nerves of steel had become nothing more than Jell-O. But he had no choice as he dropped the hammer. He knew he had no room for error if he was going to top this time, but he was in a car he wasn't terribly familiar with outside of its reputation. Soul was a trailbraker by heart, and he quickly found that the Evo was not so friendly towards those that attempted to trailbrake it it. But he managed to maintain control through Flugplatz, Schwedenkreuz, and Adenaur Forst. However late braking going into the hard left following Metzgesfeld caught Soul off guard, and he lost control spinning out, then counterspinning. Luckily for him when he finally hit the wall he was only moving at about 1 mph in a sideways
slide. A little love tap, so to speak, and he quickly returned to the road. But Soul was now driving desperately. He had been slightly behind the pace that he needed to match the Altezza. Because of this, he came into Wehrseifen too hot, was forced to trail brake, and slammed the back of his car into the wall. Soul was bruised, but the car was done for. He sat there for a moment, soaking it all in. He was stuck here, in this dead world for the rest of his existence.

[NARRATOR]A race car driver, caught between moments in time, takes a challenge hoping to win his ticket home. What he won instead was a permanent home in the Nurburgring Diary Zone.

*****

So I drove a few more laps just to see if it was possible for the Evo to beat the Altezza's car. I didn't manage it, but with some tranny and downforce tuning and some clean laps, I'm pretty sure it could have been done.

From: e2car | Posted: 12/3/2005 5:07:35 PM | Message Detail


Heyo, newcomer CCYoshi here. (no, not e2car. CCYoshi ). I figure I might as well de-lurkify and start posting. Some of these BRs are pretty cool ideas. But, anyway, to the main event...now entering... The Nurb Zone

I awoke to green forest, gray road, and the smell of exhaust. But...where was I, and what was I doing here?

Welcome to Nippon Airlines, this is your captain Bob speaking. In about 5 hours we'll be landing at Tokyo Airport, so please relax and enjoy your flight...
...I was flying to Japan for the 2rd race in the Tuning Car Grand Prix...and then...

This is your captain speaking. We appear to be experiencing some slight turbulence right now, so please buckle your seatbelts.

...something went wrong...I think?

This is your captain speaking. We appear to be missing a left wing, having flown through a lightning storm. Please hold on tight......and then...a white flash...and now I'm here. Somewhere in Germany. What are the odds I'd survive a plane crash and land in the middle of nowhere and...have the most famous race track in the world across the street!? ...but, there was still one question I haven't answered. Where is everyone?
*stomach grumbles* Well, even when I'm busy not being dead, I guess I can still be hungry. Might as well go to a cafe and order up...Except there's no one there. Where did everyone go? It's so lonely out here, with no one to help me find my way out.

"Excuse me sir," somebody says behind me, "are you all right?" I nearly jump out of my skin. He pauses, and continues. "I guess you are. I suppose you want to find a way back home?"

I'm too shocked to answer, so I very forcedly nod my head.

"Very well. I'm here to offer you a proposition. Right now, you are in a sort of dead space in time." That makes no sense, but neither does anything else that happened so far. "Nobody is here...except you. I am the ruler of this dimension, and I'm willing to let you get back to your world."

Finally regaining my voice, I stammer "I-I'm all f-for it. Let's go!"

"BUT!" He chops me off. "You have to take my challenge. See that car out there?" he points to reveal an Altezza Touring car. Sorta impressive, but I bet my car could smoke it. "If you can beat me in one lap around the Nurburgring, I'll let you go back to reality. But if not...you're stuck here forever.""...OK, then. Bring it on!" I accept his challenge.

"Very well," he responds. "Here's the key to your car, and some cash to rebuild it. I'll see you at the starting line..." He hands me a blurry key, a check for $40,000, and dissapears.

But what car would I drive? I wonder as I exit the cafe and...whoa. Where'd that car come from? Sure enough, my Nissan Skyline GT-R (V-Spec II N1 2000) was sitting right outside, waiting. It was the same car I was to drive in that Tuning Grand Prix race. Popping the hood open, I noticed one thing- it was
stock. Well, that's what the $40,000 was for.

Unfortunately, there was nobody at the tuning shop either, so I had to take the parts and install them myself. I left the cash at the register, just to be fair. I bought R1 tires,a Racing Flywheel, a Twin Clutch, a Full Transmission, a Semi-Racing Suspension, a Carbon Driveshaft, Racing Brakes, a Weight Reduction (level 1), and...and...stupid me, I had no cash left for the wing. Very smart.

Having equipped the proper parts, there was only one thing left to do...get back to where I came from.

From: e2car | Posted: 12/3/2005 5:19:01 PM | Message Detail

(P.S. Sorry, I know no ring terminology)

Rolling up to the starting line, my heart was pounding, my legs were shaking, and anything close to courage I had was gone. I was too afraid of screwing up to think about driving hard. But once the lights turned green, I was off like a rocket, in the race of my life.

Unfortunately, my opponent's rocket was powered by a few more nuclear reactors, so to continue the analogy. He took the lead at the first turn (thank goodness his car was non-ethereal- no crashes here), and I couldn't do much but stare at his exhaust. I made a couple mistakes here and there, a couple offs at a few
corners, but overall I just couldn't go a fast as him. The timing system said I was down by 10 seconds. Didn't think it was that much.

Just as reality was sinking in as my car slowed to a halt, the Altezza man reappeared. He said, "That was a good race. Since I like you, I'll give you a second chance to get back. BUT! This is your positively, final, chance, understand?"

I nodded, happy to get a second thought. Unfortunately, I was no less nervous than before. But, I had to win. I would win. Right?

This time, knowing the course I took the lead at the first corner and held it until the first long straightaway. He passed me there (I guess my car was slower...), and held a short lead, until I put one wheel onto the dirt around 1:17. Time slowed to a crawl as the Skyline swayed back and forth, but eventually I corrected it. Although I was now further behind...

So I had to drive harder. I gained tenths of a second, only to lose them when my driver door inexplicably caved in on me around 2:38. I most definitely did NOT hit the wall. Still, between checkpoints 6 and 7 I could feel myself getting closer...closer...and then 5 minutes in I stuck another tire in on the grass, and pulled a nice drift. Unfortunately, drifts did not help me go faster. Getting onto the hu-freaking-mongous straightaway I still had the Altezza man in sight. I thought my top speed was higher, so I still had a chance. I roared through the slight bends afterwards without even braking, with my life on the
line. Closer and closer the Altezza came-
...until it dissappeared around the last corner. I never saw it again. I got close, but just not close enough. My 7'35'819 was just 3 seconds too slow over his 7'31'161.

At least I'll have lots of time to practice getting this track down. After all, I'm never able to leave...

[vitg]

From: Flibutz | Posted: 12/5/2005 5:15:00 AM | Message Detail

BR: The Nurburgring Diary Zone

No one's going to believe this, I thought. No biggie. After all, it could be I never get to tell this to anyone. That worried me a bit more. I had fallen asleep in a plane, only to wake up in a strange but oddly familiar scenery. Was I dead? Might be. Then I saw a road sign: "Sturtzgefahr"... Now where had I seen that one before? I started walking as most roads lead somewhere. Surely this one would, too? Next sign was nearby. "Wehrseifen", it read. Oh, now I get it. I'm surely dead and in heaven, as this was clearly the fabled Nurburgring Nordschleife. But, if I really was in heaven, then where's my car? While I was pondering this, I heard the heavenly scream of a hard-tuned racecar approaching.
I climbed on the armco and watched an Altezza Touring car stop in front of me.
The driver told me to hop in, so I did. He was the strangest guy I had ever seen. A pitch-black man, dressed in all black, he still emitted a sparkle consisting of all the colours of the rainbow. His figure was blurry and and seemed to slightly change in shape and colour all the time. He explained I had slipped into a dead space in time. How, he wasn't sure, but somebody had clearly
screwed up as I wasn't supposed to be there.

As the sole guardian of this strange dimension, the mysterious man told me he could send me back, but only if I can beat him and his Altezza in a production car. What's more, this dimension had a hp cap. Anything over 360hp would be shot straight into another, far less likable dimension. "That's impossible!" I protested. But he said I could use whichever car I want, and even upgrade it. Only limit besides the hp cap was that I could only use 40k "Diary Zone credits" to upgrade my ride. "Ok, you, mister, are on." I replied. "I'd like a yellow '01 NSX, if possible, thanks." As he pulled into the pit lane, the Honda was already there. He gave me a list of upgrade prices, and told me to fill out the form while he was running his lap and turned on a monitor showing a live transmission from his bumper cam.

I watched him take off, and started marking the upgrades I wanted. I decided on:

Oil change - 50cr.
NA1 - 4,900
Chip - 1,500
SR Exh. - 2,900
R3 Tyres - 22,500
RC Flywheel - 1,050
Weight Red.1 - 1,200
Brake Kit - 4,700
Wing - 1,200
Total - 40,000cr.
Final hp - 353

The Mystery Man was pushing hard, clearly not afraid of the armcos. Damn immortals! While he had a little bit of trouble keeping the car on the track, even brushed the armco slightly at one point, he still clocked a 6'59.278 so I was a bit worried. His gear ratios seemed way off, though.
---
"All other opinions are idiotic, honestly." –Dethsentence


From: Flibutz | Posted: 12/5/2005 5:16:04 AM | Message Detail

It was my turn. I set the downforce of my NSX to the maximum, and turned off driving aids. I thought about using TCS@1, but I was put off. "Driving aids don't work properly in this dimension", the stranger explained. "Besides, the NSX probably won't spin R3s with 353hp so quit worrying." On the good side, this dimension had an extra feature: By pressing a button in the dashboard, I could toggle a ghost car, just like in racing games. So I placed my 82kg of live weight in the car and took off.

I grabbed the lead soon, and trusted my stickier tyres to give me the edge in spite of the relative lack of downforce. While the stock NSX handles like a dream on S2s, the slicks had more grip and made the suspension feel a bit soft. It was a bit scary, but I had to push the car pretty hard if I wanted to beat the 6'59. Luckily, I managed a totally clean lap of 6'56.678 and won.

"Well done," said Mr. Mysterious. "I'll send you home as the Langoliers are going to be here soon." While he was talking, I felt my consciousness fade away. I was the tarmac, the trees, the graffiti, and then nothing. Just black for a while. Then I woke up again, this time in a hospital. The nurse explained that I
had indeed been the sole survivor of a plane crash, but I had been found inside the wreck three days ago unconscious yet strangely without any sign of physical injuries. I started babbling about the race in another dimension. The nurse thought it was funny story, and said that kind of strange dreams are common when you're unconscious.

The next day, they let me out of the hospital. When I saw a yellow NSX parked in the lot I felt my pocket and found the key Mr. Mysterious had given me.
---
"All other opinions are idiotic, honestly." –Dethsentence


From: jwrebholz | Posted: 12/5/2005 12:29:12 PM | Message Detail

Here's another BR idea for you guys to chew on. Call this one "Any Means
Necessary".


You've been captured by KAOS. They've mistaken you for a powerful government
agent, and they were going to execute you--but then they realized their foul-up
when they saw the REAL agent walking around somewhere else. Unfortunately they
can't just let you go, so their leader will cut you a deal.

You've been given a selection of beater used cars--none of which has more than
about 250 HP. Your captors kick you a paltry 15,000 cr for modifications. There
is a 50-kg bomb in the trunk of your car. The timer is set for 500 seconds (8
minutes) and will begin counting down the moment you cross the start/finish
line. Cross the finish line before the bomb goes off. Drive like your life
depends on it--because it DOES. Hold nothing back. Use any means necessary--that
means mowing the lawn, wallriding, cutting corners, whatever you can to shave
seconds.

So the terms are as follows:
Pick ANY used car with 250 or less HP.
Spend up to 15,000 cr on mods.
Add 50kg ballast to either the extreme rear of the car or extreme front (for MR
cars) for the bomb.
Finish one lap in under 8 minutes any way you can.

From: The White Ghost | Posted: 12/5/2005 1:47:41 PM | Message Detail

This has been a very strange day. First I walk out of the coffee shop just have my coffee slapped out of my hands by these strange men in these equally bizarre uniforms anyway they detain me saying Im an agent and deserve to die a pigs death but then they finally realized I had no idea what was going on so they slapped me a 00' miata RS and said if you can take these 15,000 credits and make this car run under 8 minutes on the ring then your free I almost to quickly said yes but then they told me that the car was rigged with explosives and said if I did not get it under 8 minutes in 1 lap then it would go off me not wanting to
end up in somebodies lawn manure set off modifying this hopelessly slow miata first i set to give it some power (turbo stage 1, and nitrous) and then I slapped some downforce on the sucker and after all that I looked at my funds and saw i was rather limited so I bought a racing flywheel and a racing chip that
set me at...lets see 4,500+5,000=9,500+1,000+900=

Grand total for parts: 11,450
leftovers: 3,550
now after i arrived at the track with shackles on my feet and cuffs on my wrists half asleep I was thrown out of their carrier and hey un-cuffed me and said DRIVE!!

In this drive for my life i actually didint cut every other corner but i cut some like through adneaur forst and the karrasul and after the dottinger hohe straight the little kink and zoomed around the final corner to a 7:58.215 and as soon as i saw the strange men clapping I got out asked them to take the bomb out which the happily obliged to do and zoomed away and never looked back
---

From: Flibutz | Posted: 12/7/2005 4:28:33 AM | Message Detail

BR: Any Means Necessary

As I was walking home from a local pub one day, A black car with tinted windows stopped in front of me, tyres screeching. Before I even got to wondering what was going on, I was in the trunk cuffed and tied. Luckily it was a quite roomy, and overall nice... For a trunk. After a while of driving, the car stopped, and I was released from the trunk. There was a bunch of mean-looking people outside, asking me strange questions. I had absolutely no idea what they were talking about. To my surprise, they didn't get violent. When they were walking me into a cell, the guy who looked like the leader said: "Don't play stupid, Mr. Bond. You'll only make things worse for yourself. We have our ways of squeezing the truth from you!" "What kind of amateurs are you, anyway?" I protested. "Do I look like a friggin Sean Connery to you?" But the door slammed shut. I was very scared and feared what the morons would do to me during the interrogation. Nothing seemed to be happening yet though, so I gradually fell asleep.

I slept for quite some time, and woke up when the door opened again. It was the man from the previous day, escorted by a couple of huge bodyguards. "Seems like you were right. " he said. "You're not our man. Unfortunately, you've seen my face, and been to our hideout and everything, so we can't just let you go. Normally we'd kill you on the spot, but I thought I'll give you chance: It's my son's birthday, and he likes racing. So we'll arrange a little show for him as a gift. In the backyard, there are several cars. Pick one, and run it around our racetrack. To make things more interesting, we'll put a timed bomb in the trunk.
The timer is set at 8 minutes, but going over the finish line will automatically stop it."

He led me to a collection of well-worn cars. I would have preferred something with slicks, downforce or both since my life was on the line, but didn't find such a car. I ended up choosing a Nissan Fairlady Z 300ZX (Z31) '83 that had a several upgrades, mostly in the engine department. Their engineer told it had:

Oil Change - 50
Weight reduction 1 - 1,100
Racing Intercooler - 2,700
Racing Chip - 1,250
Stage 1 Turbo - 4,600
Racing Exhaust - 4,600
Semi-Racing Flywheel - 550
Total - 14,850

323hp, 1255kgs.

After they had rigged the car, I started it and got going. They must have really meant business, since the bomb weighed 50 kgs. The Nissan handled well even with the shot rigidity and slid around gracefully. While my lap wasn't perfect, it was pretty good. I clocked a clean 7'52.000 and the bomb didn't explode.

Back at their hideout, the leader revealed me the true name of this game. They had known who I was all along. They were in dire need of a fast driver, so they had decided to see if I could drive fast under huge pressure. I was offered a job that would make me very wealthy. "I dunno." I said. "Sounds too dangerous
for me. Can I refuse?" "Why, of course you can!" the leader said cheerily. "You can go home whenever you want, we'll just have to slit your throat first." Not amused by his sick sense of humour, I chose to accept. It was only a 5-year contract anyway. I wonder if they'll kill me or release me after its expiration?


From: viperinthegrass | Posted: 12/7/2005 3:32:18 PM | Message Detail


Any Means Necessary BR™

So there I was on my way to visit my Uncle who runs a Pig Farm in Nürburg, when I get snatched by these K.A.O.S agents and taken to the nearby Nürburgring! Apparently they have me mixed up with some Control agent called Maxwell something or other!

Clowns.

What they dont know is that I am a retired agent from U.N.C.L.E and I could take them any time I wanted to. I decide to play along and see what's going down.Just then another Bozo turns up and says he has just spotted this Maxwell character at the Train Station and they have the wrong man!The head Bozo looks embarassed and starts slapping some of the others who slap back until its like a Three Stooges scene.

Clowns.

The head Bozo then say's he will cut me a deal, they were going to get this Maxwell dude to drive this Car rigged with a Bomb on a timer set for eight minutes, if he did not make a lap of the Ring in time, bye bye Maxwell.Boy, what a bunch of morons, if it was me I would just pop a couple of caps in this Maxwells ass, Baddaboom Baddabing, end of problem.So they promise to let me go ( Scouts Honour would you believe !) if I can do the lap in time. I try to keep a straight face and agree, pretending to sob and wail and beg for my Life ( hey I might as well enjoy myself ! )
So I get in the Car which happens to be a very nice Audi S4 about 248hp I would guess. One of my guards is telling me he'd spent 15k doing it up with Stage 1&2 weight reduction, Racing Chip, Wing, a bottle of NOS and a Semi Racing Flywheel.I think he was a bit of a car nut because he was nearly crying at the thought of
it being blown up soon.

Clown.

So I pull a big donut on the line and roar off. About 7 miles in I am well in front of the clock so I pull up to prepare a little suprise for these escapees from Dumb & Dumber.
So I arrive back at the end of my lap with 1. 036 seconds to spare, the guy who did up the Car even starts cheering for me!!
They are as good as their word and let me go, they even give me a Bus Ticket so I can get back to Town.
I get about half a mile down the road when there is a loud whoomph and I see a Small, but satisfyingly lurid, Mushroom cloud appear where the Car was.Huh, bloody amateurs, that will teach them to mess with a man from U.N.C.L.E.

From: jwrebholz | Posted: 12/8/2005 4:22:17 PM | Message Detail

Budget Rider--Any Means Necessary

I was sitting in a room, tied to a chair. Before me stood two men--one of them a bit older, wearing a dark leather coat. The other was dressed all in black--and by my estimation didn't appear all that bright. "Zo," said the man in black. "Ve ve've finally caught him, Seigfried!" The other man, Seigfried, took one look at me and yelled, "Starker you DUMMKOPF! Zis isn't him! Zis is..is...who ze hell IS zis?!" "It's not him?" asked Starker. "NEIN!" retorted Seigfried. "Vell vhat should ve do vith him?" asked Starker. "Should ve put him in ze trap anyvay?" "Nein, ve'll just have to clean it again, and you know how much trouble it is to
clean that thing," contemplated Seigfried. "Ah, I know! Get one of ze cars from ze back lot and bring it up here! I know vhat ve'll do..."

The next morning I found myself sitting on the start/finish line of the Nurburgring. Seigfried and Starker both were leaning in the driver's window of my 1983 Nissan 300ZX. It was my understanding it had some work done to it--the interior was stripped, and there was a faint whine emanating from under the
hood--a telltale sign of a turbocharger. It also sounded like the exhaust had been opened up a little, but my attention was a bit more focused on the 100lbs of C4 behind me. Seigfried spoke. "You understand vhat ve'll be doing to you, ja? If you can complete a lap in eight minutes, ze bomb vill shut off. If you can't...""You'll go Vrrrooom-vrrrooom--BOOOM!"
"Starker, zis is KAOS, ve don't vroom vroom here."
"Sorry."
"And don't zink ve von't be vatching you. If you get out of ze car, ze bomb vill go off! Now go. SCHNELL!" At his word I floored the gas and raced off. It was an old car in poor condition, and I wasn't even sure if the car would make it all the way around the track, much less do it in 8 minutes.

[vitg]

From: jwrebholz | Posted: 12/8/2005 4:38:00 PM | Message Detail

BR: Any Means Necessary: Part II

Ordinarily I'm one to follow the rules. I stay between the lines, I do what I'm told and I behave myself.

You tend to forget that crap when you're carrying 100lbs of explosives that could detonate at any moment. I drove that Nissan like I stole it, and nothing and no one was safe. I sideswiped another car going through Schwedenkreuz, and
hung the tail out clear through Aremburg--a risky move that paid off. Heading to Adenaur-Forst I'd already made up my mind that I was going to cut the corner, so through the grass I went, sliding back on the track in front of some plugger in a Volvo. What's he worried about, he's in the safest car on the planet. Wehrseifen was a curve I wasn't looking forward to, and there was no way to avoid crawling through it, so on I went. I lost a wing mirror on the Armco going through Bergwerk--and probably lost a couple seconds too. All through the entire back stretch I could feel my time running out, and it wasn't until I reached the second Karussell that the realization hit me that I wasn't going to make it. I rammed the gearshift up into 4th and floored the throttle as I entered the final straight, determined to run as hard as I could. If I was going to die, I was going to die trying. As I came up to the bridge I watched the timer tick off. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Zero.


There was an explosion, but not one nearly as large as you'd expect. The interior of the car filled with smoke, and I lost control of the car. I could feel it spinning around and around, finally coming to rest in the grass at the Schikane. I looked around, bewildered. I wasn't dead. In fact I was very much alive, but I couldn't see a blasted thing. I pulled the door handle and shoved
the door open, stumbling out of the car and choking on the smoke. Seigfried and Starker were both running toward the car, yelling in German. I wasn't sure if they were yelling at me, or at each other. I finally stood up as they reached the car. "You're supposed to be dead!" yelled Seigfried. "Starker, shoot him!"
Starker pulled a revolver from his coat pocket--wait, that was MY revolver...he pulled the trigger, and instead of being shot, a tiny flame appeared at the muzzle."What're you gonna do, give me cancer?" I asked."Ze old cigarette lighter in ze gun trick," muttered Seigfried. "Starker, shoot him vith YOUR gun!"
"But I don't have my gun, Seigfried, I just have zis one!"
I could've stood there and listened to those incompetents argue all day, but I had better things to do with my time--so I popped Seigfried in the nose, kicked Starker in the jewels and took off running.With secret agents like THIS, no wonder they lost the cold war.

From: oldguy1957 | Posted: 12/8/2005 7:57:06 PM | Message Detail


WR™

Buy any beans necessary

Why did those guys hit me over the head so hard? I was still feeling a bit woozy, trying to figure out what had just taken place over the past few hours.

I whizzed past a green sign that said “Bugsplatz”, or something like that. All I knew, for sure, was that I was driving on a very crooked and bumpy road at very high speeds. The words “Du haff eight meenuts, den BOOM!”, were also pretty clear in my head. What the hell kind of accent was that? And what the hell is a
KAOS agent. Kill All Old Sailors? No, that can’t be it. Kentucky Against Other States? Hmmm. That sounds doubtful, as well.

“Sweden Cruises”. Another one of those green signs.

“Meet Mr. 2”, the weird guy had said, and handed me a set of keys, along with $15,000. I figured out pretty quickly that Mr. 2 was a black 1997 Toyota MR2 GT-S…1320 kilos of ass-swinging delight, with 247 hp. I used that money the guy gave me to buy a $13,000 turbocharger kit, a $1200 wing. I spent the last $800
on a bottle of very nice wine. If I lived to drink it, it would be money well spent.

“Birdworks”. Those green signs made no sense at all.

I’d driven MR2’s before. The 50 kilos of explosives those guys had tucked into the front trunk area seemed to actually make it handle better than without it. I was starting to enjoy swinging that little black ass around.

The start/finish line. That’s what I was looking for. I remembered it quite clearly. I wasn’t quite sure what or where it was, but that was why I was driving so fast. I had to get to the start/finish line before the digital clock with the big red numbers on it on the dash board, which had started with eight minutes on it, reached zero.

Easy on the brakes, then back on the gas, hard, as I flew by another green sign. “Wimpyman” this one said. I hoped it wasn’t referring to me! More corners. More hills and bumps. The clock was ticking down to the one-minute mark as I slid around a corner that revealed a really long straight-away. Hammer time!! Through “Nottingham Ho”, I thought the sign said. Strange. Did Robin Hood have a…um…lady on the side?

The speedometer was creeping up to 160 mph as the clock ticked down to 15 seconds. Hard on the brakes. Fight to keep control. 10 seconds, and I was around a couple more corners, then a short straight. And there it was!! The start/finish line!! I didn’t dare look at the clock again until I crossed the line. When I did, it read 1.755. I was still alive.

KAOS: Kick Ass Of Secret agents.

Yeah.

Time for some wine.

From: e2car | Posted: 12/9/2005 5:09:38 PM | Message Detail

BR: All your Ring are belong to us!

I awoke to the darkness of my room, still clueless as to yesterday's events. I remembered something about an Altezza, a Skyline, and being stuck somewhere forever, but I guess that was all a dream. Thank goodness.

I fumbled around for the lights but struck the wall instead. Hmm...was it always that close? Sitting up...I smashed my head on the ceiling before even getting halfway up. Something was up.

Right about now I noticed that I was not in the comfort of my own room but instead tied up in the trunk of some car. Sounded like a Mercedes, too. Good car, although I'd rather be driving it.

Then there was some talk in German up in front, and the car screeched to a halt. The trunk popped open and I wearily mumbled, "Are we there yet?", before having a cloth with some chemical on it applied to my face.

Next thing I knew I was back at the Nurburgring. Why? I don't have a freaking clue, but there was some guy in a black suit telling me, "You gets 8 minutes to drive zis trak...or your vroom-vroom goes BOOM-BOOM." About then, I happened to
coincidentally notice that I was sitting in the seat of a Subaru Impreza Sedan WRX STi (GC) '94. (Mods: Weight 1, Racing Flywheel, Driveshaft, Twin Clutch, Sport Suspension, and a wing that works).

"But...why?" I ask, before noticing that the black men were gone and I was already flying toward the starting line at 50 mph. As I crossed, a timer on the dashboard flashed 8:00.

Swinging around the first turn, it became apparent that there was something heavy in the trunk. I guess they did mean business.

And so did I. I drove around that Ring like my life depended on it (Editor: uh...because it did?), with no care for life, limb, or car. I drove the doors off that sucker! Literally, for about halfway through I found the right-side mirror sheared off and the right-side door halfway open. At least this wasn't an import car- I sat on the left.

Roaring onto the longest straightaway in history, I had a good long time to contemplate what a fine life I haven't lived. That, and that the clock read 1 minute and my freaking car was almost at redline. So I shifted up and...there was no 6th gear. What. The. Heck.

Coming to the slight chicane at the end of the straight, I became aware (far too late, as always) of the fact that something was beeping. Very loudly. I took a glance at the timer as I hurled the car into the last sharp chicane (uh...the part where you brake really hard after the straight).

It was flashing 0:00. But I was still aliv-

---

We are here to mourn the departure of CCYoshi, who only ran a 8:15:285...

But wait, there's more...

---

Ring B-R
CCYoshi x 1

"You gets 8 minutes to drive zis trak...or your vroom-vroom goes BOOM-BOOM."

What? This again? I must be in hell...oh wait! I remember now...I had 100 bucks or so left in my wallet, which was enough to buy me an extra life. Whew.Time to kick some Ring butt.

I drove all 4 doors off the car each time, gaining time on my ghostly self (which was still driving the Ring, mysteriously) at each checkpoint. At the entrance to the long straightaway, I had a 10-second lead...maybe I could pull this off...

I floored that car around the last turns like there was no tommorow, and the timer still hadn't gone off as I rounded the last turn back onto the start/finish straight. I could see the looks on the faces of those black men who took me away...

But why were they running for cover?

8:04:322


From: Soulidarity | Posted: 12/10/2005 5:33:02 PM | Message Detail

Any Means Necessary

*****

"Have a good day, Mr. Darity," the "sandwich specialist" said to me as he handed me my change.

I nodded with a smile. I loved these sub sandwiches. Anything less was simply not an acceptable lunch. I walked out the door, and headed up the street back to towards the office, blissfully munching on my sandwich on the way.

I was pulled out of my momentary paradise as a black van screeched to a halt next to me, and two masked men jumped out of the side, pulling me into the van. Someone put a wet rag over my mouth, and the world went dark...

*****

"Wake up, Mr. Anderson, or should I call you 'Neo'?"

It felt like a dream, and everything was hazy as I forced my eyes open."Ah, Mr. Anderson. So Nicccce to see you."

"Wuuuhh? Wh- who are you? What's going on?"

"Oh, such a shame, I was hopinnnggg you'd be more cooperative."

I was more than a little confused, and the only words I could muster up were, "I don't understand...."

The suited up man slowly and deliberately removed his sunglasses, and placed them on the table. "Perhaps this will help you remember." He thrust his hands towards me grabbing my head with both hands, exerting an unimaginable force upon my temples with his thumbs. I screamed in agony. The pain was like nothing I had ever felt. My eyes began to feel like they were going to pop, my ears were on fire. I could no longer see, hear, or feel. Pain was all that I had left as my life began to melt away. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

The pain suddenly stopped, and I slumped forward. I slowly regained my senses, and as my eyes began to focus, I saw my torturer talking quietly with a similarly dressed man, still wearing his sunglasses. My torturer glanced briefly my way, reached down for his sunglasses, and placed them back on his face.

"It would seem that we've made a mistake," he said to me in the most casual manner. "Your resemblence to a certain fugitive issss uncanny."

He nodded to someone behind me, and a wet rag found my mouth once again. I tried to wiggle free, but the darkness found me first.

*****
---

[vitg]

From: Soulidarity | Posted: 12/10/2005 5:33:19 PM | Message Detail

I found myself behind the wheel of a Subaru Impreza. I poked my head out to notice racing slicks equipped on the car.

"We're giving you one chance to live. Call it a game. Make it back here in time, and we shut off the bomb. If you don't make it, well..." the agent said to me as he slammed the driver's door shut, and the timer began. So I hit the gas. What else could I do?

What in God's name had I gotten myself into this time?

It appeared that I was on the famed Nurburgring Nordshchleife. I had never been here, but I had played enough video games to at least know what the course was going to throw my way.

As I plowed through the grass on the outside of Flugplatz, the clock counted down to 7 minutes. This was insane. Everything was a blur as I drove on instinct. As I neared Aremburg, I nearly lost it, but managed to maintain control, and pull out with a little help from the nitrous equipped on the car. As I neared Adenaur Forst, I decided to cut across the grass to make up some
much needed time. I was halfway between Adenaur and Metzgesfeld when the timer hit 6 minutes. I managed to drive reasonably clean all the way to Karussel, then made liberal use of the grass up until Pflantzgarten. I was starting to feel confident, as things were looking good.

This was nearly my downfall as I went into Schwalbenschwanz too hot, and smashed into the wall. Somehow the WRX was still driveable, and I pulled away from the wall, but my line was screwed and I ended up in the sand at Schwalbenschwanz's second corner. I pulled out and hit the nitrous, nearly pulling through mini-karussel too fast as well.

But I pulled it together to get a good line through Galgenkopf, and dropped the hammer (with a little help from the nitrous once again) onto the DH straight. I flew through the first arch with 59 seconds to go, and the second arch with just over 30 seconds left. As I made my way into the final set of turns, I lost control and went sideways into the wall. Somehow I wasn't hurt, and the car was able to limp across the finish line with 6 and a half seconds to spare. Upon crossing the finish line, the timer immediately stopped, by my captors were nowhere to be found.

They had kept their deal, and released me, but now I had to get myself home....


From: Soulidarity | Posted: 12/10/2005 6:27:47 PM | Message Detail

by the way, I used an Impreza (don't remember exactly which one) from the used car lot with 244 hp, or something right around there. I changed its oil, washed it, put a racing chip, nitrous, and R1s on it which brought to exactly 15k. First one chance only BR that I've managed to "pass".

Nurburgring Diary Zone

I'd been standing in line for what seemed an eternity. Several dubious-looking yahoos were also waiting their turn, each eventually talking to the unnamed Man in Black (definitely not Johnny Cash). He had a tittery, grating giggle, whoever he was.

By the time I'd reached the front of the line, I'd heard the speech dozens of times;

"I just ran a *blah blah blah* time in my super-neato Touring Car. Pick any car you want and try to beat my time, and I'll send you home. Fail, and you're stuck here. *Titter*"

So far, he'd held true on his word. Those who passed were given a pair of ruby-colored slippers. Those who failed were given a copy of "War and Peace". Ouch.

I shuffled up to the front of the line, and was halfway through his oratory when a strange look crossed his face.

"Blah blah blah, 7'47, blah blah blah. Pick any car you... You know what? I'm bored. You still have to beat my time, but you have to do it in your car. Here you go."

A '92 Honda Civic appeared in front of me. Not exactly my Civic (wrong engine and transmission, wrong color, hatch not sedan, etc), but close enough to blow any hopes I had out of the water.

"Have fun! *Titter*"And with that, he vanished.

There was a gift certificate to a store named "Ricer (backwards) 'R' Us" sitting on the driver's seat, so I drove over and started putting in my order.

Receipt:

SR Exhaust- 2,800
Racing Chip- 1,000
N2O- 5,000
Twin-Plate Clutch- 2,500
Racing Flywheel- 900
Stage 2 Turbo- 12,500
Sports Suspension- 3,000
R2 Tires- 10,000
Weight Reduction 1- 1,000
3D Type AB Wing- 1,200

Total- 39,900 Cr.

With all the aftermarket stuff crammed into my Civic, it wasn't such a horrible ride. The understeer was still noticeable under power, but it would slip out a bit if I popped off the throttle. Very useful for correcting.
I saved the nitrous for critical corner exits, with a 110 mph cutoff point on short straights, a 130 mph cutoff on medium ones, 150 on the Dottinger-Hohe straight and a full-blast run up the Bergwerk-to-Mutkurve run.

Thankfully the Civic had a long enough 5th to use all that go-go juice without bouncing once. I snuck around the last corner at 7'40 and blasted the last bit of my N2O before the finish line.

Final time: 7'45, please and thank you! Now gimme my damn slippers!



From: MrPinstripes | Posted: 12/10/2005 9:43:53 PM | Message Detail


Any Means Necessary

I awoke in darkness. I was lying face-down on a mouldy-smelling stone floor, and judging from how I felt, I'd been there a while.

A voice sounded from behind me.

"Good evening, Mr. Bond! Welcome to S.P.E.C.T.R.E. Headquarters. I hope you enjoy your stay."

I shook my head, which hurt like a sonofa*****.

"Mr. Who? What the **** are you talking about?"

"Don't play your games with us. We know who you are, and we know you have what we need."

"Listen, asswipe. All I have right now is a splittling ****ing headache. I'm also a bit fat and a lot too short to play Bond."

I heard him mutter something to someone else, and the blackness split open with a screech. I couldn't see much past the doorframe, but a man stood just outside the door, holding something in his arms. Something that purred. There was another figure off to the side, too.

Apparently I wasn't who he wanted to see, since he took one look at me and immediately slapped the other guy in the chest. They argued back and forth a bit in another language, then the door slammed shut again.

A bit of indistinguishable time went by, and again my cell door ground open. A different man was standing in the doorway, holding some fresh clothes and a set of car keys.

"Normally we would kill you, Mr. Whoever-you-are,"

"Pinstripes," I interjected.

"Shut up. We have a task for you. It is a task which, if successfully completed, may earn you our leniency. We need you to deliver a package to a certain Mr. Bond. He'll be staying at this location."

"The Butler" handed me a brochure for a ritzy German hotel. We approached a set of double doors, which opened automatically.

The room was huge, but the only thing in it was a tiny black TVR V8S.

"All you must do for us is drive this car and leave it in the hotel parking lot. Nothing more."

"Alright. What's the catch?"

"The catch is there is a bomb in the back of the car, and you only have just over 8 minutes to get to the hotel. Your time starts now."

He pressed a button on the keychain and a eerily muffled beep sounded from within the trunk of the TVR. He tossed me the keys, turned on his heel, and walked out of the room.

I jumped in the car and twisted the ignition. The Rover V8 roared to life with a satisfying growl.

"Not quite stock, I'd wager."

I slammed the gearshift into first and lit the tires up, screaming out of the garage like the hounds of Hell were on my trail. And, in a way, they were.

Here's the thing. This whole situation sorta pissed me off. I'll usually let some pretty harsh stuff slide, but kidnapping and strongarming get me in a bad mood, and quickly.

I blew past their hotel and took a twisty back road on the brochure map- one that led right back to the "super secret" HQ I had just left. All I had to do was get there in less than 5 minutes or so...

The TVR handled the extra weight well, though it wanted to swing a bit more than I would have liked. I had a few close calls, nearly putting my rear tires into the dirt and ending my mad dash for vengeance.

I had a plan, though. The final few turns before their HQ (It was on the damn hotel brochure! How "secret" did they think they were?) were really tight, so I'd be going slow. I began rummaging around in the back seat for something about
3 feet long and sticklike. I found a snow brush.

"Perfect!"

The moment of truth arrived. I swung around the final bend, wedged the snow brush down onto the gas, and rolled out the door and onto the grass.

A few seconds later the car exploded in a phenomenal display of destructive force. How I survived, I'll never quite know.


From: MrPinstripes | Posted: 12/10/2005 9:47:11 PM | Message Detail

TVR V8S in Moonraker Black, 243 HP (Garage)

126 kg ballast @ 45- 76 for me (@ 30) and 50 (@ 50) for the bomb

Final Time: 7'53
Mods: R2s, Twin Plate Clutch, Sports Exhaust

[vitg]

So ends Vol Xll

Are we having fun yet ?

Stay tuned for Volume Xlll

ps - When I have a bit more free time I will find and extract the actual specifications for each BR™. This will document the "Plot" for anyone who wants to try a particular BR™.

Edit - Specifications patched in to posts for Volumes X , Xl & Xll

Thank you for your attention.