kill stories

Back in 1983, I was a sophmore in H.S. and I was getting crap about the 1970 383 4spd. Superbee my sister drove to school. The body was rusted and banged up, but my Dad bought it from the local junkyard for $500. The 383 was real strong for being stock, and 3.55 gears helped too. Anyway, the jocks with big mouths and nice cars kept dissing the Bee until I agreed to a time and place. I was to race a GS Buick, 350 I think, but this car was sooo fast to these guys. Well, I stuck around after school till the head jock got done with track practice. We went out to "race road" and lined up. I spun at the hit, but by 3rd, things looked pretty good. I hit 4th, looked at the speedo to see 115 mph. I looked in the mirror to see how bad I beat this guy, only to see him turning around in the middle of the road and head back to town! The next day at school, there was quite a bit of respect for a certain hemi orange Superbee with rusted quarters and bald tires.