Share your opinion or stories!!!

For me it's the sound, picture it, it's 12 midnight and you're sitting on the curb sucking on a beer at the end of main street which in a town of 3000 is about 6 blocks long. It's dead nuts quiet except for odd june bugs smacking into one of the few streetlights. Off in the distance you can hear this rattley high pitch gurgling coming to town and across the train tracks appears this 66 ish Mustang with cherry bombs. He proceeds to turn down main street and lights up one tire heading for the bar 4 blocks down. The POS Mustang no sooner came off the gas and I heard the tell tale high voltage whine of a gear reduction starter struggling dam hard to get something big and ugly started and about 5 seconds later suceeded followed by the lumpyest deep idling rumble which in those days you only ever heard coming from a BB Dodge/Plymouth. Out from amongth the shadows of the farm equipment where he was hiding rumbles this 66-67 Plymouth Fury (they called them interceptors) with in those days only one cherry on top. About the same time that cherry came on he punched her and you'd swear to god the world was coming to an end. That 440 both howled and screamed as it hit 6000 RPM (the speed shop next town down souped the bejesus out of that thing) and near tore the tires off that 4000 pound car. Needless to say he had that Mustang just after they parked it but before they got to the front door and with the tires still smoking handed them wannabees a hand full of tickets.
Few years later got into Mopars, that was 40 some years ago.

It was a good night.