#Finnegan the Imp

[sylviesparks]

"Day or night, rain or shine, things are never boring in Kazoo!"

Introducing my lovely puppet characters!! They're the main stars of Kazoo and You, a horror/dark comedy project surrounding the mystery of the colorful puppet cast of Kazoo (With O'Malley and Lou), a late '70s/early 80's television program that's been firmly pushed into obscurity after its cancellation. Now nothing but alleged lost episodes, discarded merchandise, a long-abandoned and small theme park and a dusty, decrepit studio behind barbed wire and ivy, the puppets have been long cast away, and it seems that someone-or something- wants it to stay that way.

In left to right order, the cast is: O'Malley the Hare Lou the Dog Salty the Sea Cow Marsha the Bog Witch (She's younger than she looks...) Lottie the Lovebug Finnegan the Imp And lovely You of course!

I've been very focused on them recently (Thanks to my horror affinity and Don't Hug Me I'm Scared reminding me of them to begin with), so you'll see them and their story around more on this blog as work on it idly! I've been having a great time so far with them :3

[necromosss]

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Mossy. 21+. She/Her or They/Them is fine.

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✦ OC TAG ✦

IMP TRIO (Main circus freaks) ❇️ Zil || Zilnos || Akshay Noveth ❇️ Coriander 'Ian' Thorngren || Kor'itharienuro ❇️ Fiona Finnegan Rae || Fyn Rhea

OTHERS ❇️ Miranda Heltav D'Lael //Baldur's Gate 3 -------- #Wildweave (Gale x Mira tag) ❇️ Jonathon McReady //Fallout 4

[mementio-mori]

The one you followed my Terra blog with

Oh, Finnegan. Buckle up cause this is gonna be an essay.

- Finnegan Vanhorn was born the younger son to a rather afluent family alongside his sister, Lydia. Though she did her best to spend time with him, he's spent most of his years as a kid alone due to neglect. This spurred into a habit of him sneaking out to do what he pleased. He eventually picked up a job as a... Well, he calls himself a monster hunter to put it shortly, but he was an agent of a government initiative made to combat the influx of monsters and criminals in his home city.

(This itteration is mainly based off a different one in another RP, an esper that goes by "the Timekeeper". But he has bits of every itteration weaved into him.)

- He eventually took up learning about the multiverse and began brainstorming a device that would help him traverse through reality plenums by harnessing the mana that attracted said monsters. Mind you, he started when he was thirteen. It took years to perfect the technology. He dubbed it the Syllogis.

- During his travels he'd cross paths with a witch named Oliver, his best friend. The two had stuck by each other ever since.

- You may catch mentions of "Project Bronze", or see Finn get called that. The details are still vague as hell, perhaps intentionally. If Finn had any memories of whatever experiments he had to endure, there'd be nothing but fog.

(When I said he had other itterations weaved in him, that wordplay is intentional. He's said to be tied with many, MANY, MANY, other versions of himself, along with a few of the people he knows now. Man's had dreams and nightmares of what those versions had to go through before. I even joked about him not actually being human. There is a hypothetical conspiracy board.)

- He didn't start out with a profile, only as an anon nicknamed Clock Anon. He first popped up on Janurary 12th of last year.

(He's been here for a yeaaarrrr!!! :D)

- Finn ended up leaving his home reality to live with his current boyfriend, their one-year anniversary coming up next month. And after an incident revolving some troublesome fae that he still hasn't forgiven anyone for not letting him kill, he ended up quitting his old job. He works as a florist now.

(There was a third for a while, but... we don't talk about him anymore.)

- AuDHD go brrr.

- Disaster bi.

- His favorite flower is the Lily of the Valley.

- He likes red velvet sweets and mocha. And ice cream.

(Sweet tooth go brrrr.)

- Weapons geek, has a fondness for knives. Or bladed weapons in general.

- He also has a twin brother/clone, Orpheus. Orph's also an imp. Yeah he came into the picture much later, I dunno what he classifies as at this point and neither does the imp.

- Oh I forgot the man has regen healing. Side effect of the experiments.

[spyridonya]

wip?

trigger warnings: veiled treat of SA

I wrote this as someone’s prompt for one of the ask games, and I realized I might want to tool around about Kadee’s Battlebliss story. I’m absolutely thankful that Owlcat didn’t go this route by keeping Gelderfang far and away from the actions from being unpleasant. And then I wondered if the tiefling would approach Kadira again, and then I wondered what the heck is Ko the Lawful Evil Imp is doing down in the Abyss beyond being a familiar. (Unless if he has a expanded roll that I’m not aware of.)

Anyhow, a little drabble from somewhere in these mess of ideas.

"Perhaps you may live to even enjoy my victory." Gelderfang tipped his head at the tiefling with a slow smile to show fangs. The incubus’ monstrous beauty was somehow enhanced by the lewd promise of tomorrow's conquest, though it didn’t surprised Kadira.

Not at the least.

The commander narrowed her eyes just as Finnegan began to vibrate in her hilt, his silent anger mirroring her own in perfect reflection. Kadira wondered what Ko’s reaction would be, though she didn’t want to give the imp away by studying the dirty straw it was buried under.

All Kadira knew that anger had banished her fear as she glared at the champion before her, the bars of not-iron barring Gelderfang from her, rather than the reverse. 

"I'm afraid that if I get too close, Champion," She counters in a whisper low and raw enough that incubus had to strain to listen to over the roar of the Bliss, "I might end up cutting you from cock root to larynx."

[rusted-clocks]

🍂

🍂 FALLEN LEAVES — how would you metaphorically describe your life and the journey(s) you've been on? ...Take what you will, a young boy. A boy though powerful, who was demonized by enemies and peers alike and left for dead by so-called allies. "Dangerous, psychopath, murderer, little shit, whoreson, jinx, imp". Whatever trauma the boy was forced to endure was disregarded in favor of pointing fingers and reducing him to a scapegoat. No one cared for truth, only for who they believed him to be. No one cared for Finnegan Vanhorn, only for the Timekeeper. It was like the world itself was trying to make him into a villain, as he's expressed concern over previously. I wouldn't be surprised his co-workers let him get worse by easily giving him up to the Commission for their own benefit. Little did they know that choice would eventually let a real scapegoat manifest over time. Literally. I don't know if anyone had noticed at the time but I guess the experiments cause me to gain a form of sentience. Then again, Finn was always noted to experience hallucinations under intense stress and fatigue. At the very least this meant neither of us were alone. Even if we didn't like each other's company at first. Years pass, he gets his freedom, yada yada we end up here and most importantly, we somehow get separated. And then I met the first person who treated me more like another person and less like some irredeemable monster. I don't know what I'd do without Dante annoying his way into my heart.

[cj-burke]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀Mine

⠀⠀⠀⠀Content Warning; mentions and descriptions of ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ blood, torture, and death.

A growl rumbled deep within his chest, his golden eyes glaring deep into the woman's teary, baby blues. "I have a question," he rolled his shoulders, lifting a hand to push away his hair and tuck it behind his ear," why are people so thick? Why can't they see the obvious?" A whimper left the woman, causing a frustrated sigh to erupt from the dragon. "That's not a damn answer," he hissed under his breath, stepping forward and taking hold of the woman's hair. "You have hair just like hers; short and as dark as night. Your eyes are similar too, but I'm afraid you'll never be her."

The woman's lips parted to speak, but the demon's fingers were shoved into her mouth. "Can't they see? She's mine! I am the one she's supposed to be with! She belongs to me. Mine. That blasted imp has gotten on my last nerve..." he rambled, pinching one of her teeth between his forefinger and thumb. She looked up at him wide eyed, shaking her head and thrashing her legs. Roman took hold of one of her shackled arms, pressing her back against the wall as he slowly pulled at her tooth. She screamed, leaving him to shudder and groan as the tooth fell into his palm.

"They think they can have her. Befriend a woman like her. They don't know her, the secrets she has. For god's sake, they're lucky they don't! She has a thousand years worth of knowledge no one but I could understand, I can appreciate her more than anyone! Can't she see? She needs to see!"

He pulled out another one of her teeth. "The way he touches her... the look on his face when he looks at her disgusts me. It should be me! Me, myself and I! Are they all that daft? Can't they tell that I'll do anything— anything— to get her? A death wish they must have! Oh, but that's the beauty of it," he removed his fingers from her mouth, a total of five teeth in his bloodied hand," their deaths would be so... memorable of it were done by me. She's my hound, my Blyana, my little beast. She would help me in doing it if I had her true name. If only she'd give it to me."

The demon laughed, letting his head roll back as he did, his eyes meeting the bright overhead light above. "P-please.." the woman choked, a muffled sob leaving her," please let me go..." Blood seeped down here chin and dribbled on what little she wore, fair skin and crimson such a wonderful combination.

"Ohohoho... my sweet, sweet treat... you don't want to stay for our fun? You don't want to play with me?" he leaned forward, his nose touching hers," do you not wish to hear the end of my stories? I've only just begun!" He grinned widely, his hands moving up to take hold of her shackled wrists, sliding them down her arms and sides of her ribs until they reached her waist. "She's a natural born killer, her bloodlust could even surpass mine if she just… let go. She needs to let go of it all and see. She needs to see that I am her salvation, her one and only. She's escaped me for centuries but now? Now I will have her. My little Blyana."

As he spoke, the demon had plunged his talon like nails into the woman's bare sides, his ears ringing blissfully as her screams echoed throughout the room. He dug his hands in deeper, the cracking of bones and the tearing of flesh bringing a sadistic excitement to his eyes. He beckoned for her screams, shoving his hands into her until he was wrist deep into her body. He fiddled around, commenting on how warm and wet she felt, but all she could hear were her own screams of agony.

"But now..." he leaves forward, licking some of the blood that had left her mouth," he keeps her out of my reach. I'm going to kill him slowly so he can take the time to remember my face as his life leaves him. Then she'll be mine, all mine! Finnegan will know the pleasure of having her for now, but she isn't, and never will be his. Mine.”

As he finished speaking, the woman's screams faded as well as the dimming light in her eyes. As her body went limp, he pulled his hands out of her sides and hunched forward with a defeated breath. “Awe! I wasn't even done playing with you… pathetic humans..”

[walkingshcdow-a]

@hellshoard liked for a starter | Stolas & Blitz | “If I Didn’t Believe in You” from The Last Five Years

Stolas sucks in a shallow breath, staring at Blitz with uninhibited adoration. The guards he’s put up so carefully, that he took down so suddenly for Blitz before- before-

He thinks of the gun. The yellow-eyed assassin. The rushed packing as he and Octavia scooped up their lives into suitcases and disappeared from Hell. 

He didn’t think Blitz would follow him. Find him. A year has passed in the Fae Wild. How long has passed on Earth? In Hell? The time differentials are a nightmare and not at all the point. 

His lover has agreed to run the Champion’s Gauntlet. 

More or less.

Stolas has agreed Blitz will run it. 

He thinks of the Harvest Moon Festival. There’s no one more capable of winning Finnegan’s stupid game than his Blitzy, but no Champion has ever won without their sovereign's help. It isn’t cheating if it’s encouraged. Stolas takes Blitz’s guns in hand and traces sigils in his own blood on them. 

The sigil glows red. 

And then it glows gold. 

Stolas fails to mask his surprise as he goes from one gun to the other. It isn’t a new ritual, but that’s new. Should he tell Blitz that his magic is changing the longer he’s away from Hell? What good would that do? The guns would still be augmented.

As he’s performed the ritual, he’s explained the gist of the Champion’s Gauntlet. A Runner must be mortal. A Runner must be claimed by Royalty on the other side. If a Runner lives, they become the Royal’s Champion. He blushes and apologizes that it is Fae Speak for consort, that it’s the only way a mortal has been allowed passage into the Court, that they go unscathed. 

(There are exceptions. Rare. Beyond his ken.)

They have to win. Blitz has to win. To lose is to die at the hand of an ancient and natural magic. 

Blitz is one of only two things - two people - Stolas can’t bear to lose. Does he say that? Should he? He watches the second gun glow golden with blessing. At least Blitz won’t run out of bullets. He’s a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. How can Stolas tell him that he loves him, that he thought he did when they were still in Hell, but that he knows it with bone-deep conviction now that he’s here. 

Stars and Rings, it all sounds so melodramatic and isn’t that the point? The Fae can’t abide boredom. 

And they’ve never Run an Imp before. There will be a crowd. 

Stolas hands Blitz back his weapons and he touches his lover’s cheek. How to comfort him? How to let him know the depth of his feeling, the wellspring of not only his desire, but this love that’s pouring out of him so much that his magic no longer looks demonic, but blessed? Blitz asks a question about the Gauntlet and somehow, that is easier to answer. Stolas kisses him much more softly than he ever has before and looks into his wide eyes. He may not get to do that again. 

But he won’t let that get in the way. 

“If I wasn't certain that you'd come through somehow, I wouldn't be standing here now,” he says. “I’ll be cheering you on and doing everything I can to counter the Fae magic they throw at you, but, Blitz... you made it here and if there’s anyone I believe in, it’s you.” 

[h0ney-bee]

What is all your ocs name

That's a l o t of ocs ':) but I'll name as many as I can :D

Black knight - Theodore

Slashers are

William

Marcus

Dimitri

Cole

Valintin

Poggers the mascot

Shiny masked guy, no name

I probably have more

I have doodle dog, dandy puff, RT, shaggy/joseph, havoc, sleepy angel boy who I never named after 2 yrs and his demon boyfriend. Finnegan, worm, aqua, citrus, fin, ghostly, INK, J.P Snizzle, jellysprout, mashugana, milo, Miva, Mool, mooshi, nova, party Imp, Venus, the new raincoat guy, shark mascot, phone, radio signal, some hazmat suit guy, sticks, slime version of me, rubix, Thackery, frost, techno guy, Anton, cowboy guy, cat demon, Tony, mochi, hiroki, chocolate cherry mouse, chummi, void, harvest, medbot, blue demon, Arthur, demon knight, annndddd punk possum

I think that's it?? :0c

[dragontag420]

Singles:

Clot <-- gay and lonely

Shanus <-- angry lizard who stabs things

Caphyae <-- bi and eyerolling

Padriag <-- linguist

Dixie <-- electric chicken

Conex <-- tiny imp lesbian fashion designer(?)

Mkdosfs <-- sleepy, lazy gay

Muiria <-- autistic ice wolf teenager

Cassius <-- Actual Tragic Cinnamon Roll

Bug <-- look she gives good head, ok??

Cryptogram <-- giant cowboy

Oathbound <-- postal carrier

Arcas <-- angry femme, give big butch

Finnegan <-- quiet med student

Whitesun <-- magic bogsneak

DP <-- cactus witch! she eats hearts 

Bloodlines <-- knows what you want, companion

Sego <-- arcane sprite turned dragon

Snakebark <-- time traveling cowboy

Sienna <-- blue gold and sparkly! fortune teller

Madder <-- fabric dying Chicken Harpy

NaumGabo <-- DINGO DINGO

Maitu <-- big happy puppy, tail wags

Naomhan <-- who is this

Ni <-- lost and blank

DustedWeb <-- hot mess who tries too hard

fucK MY DRAGONS! WOO MY DRAGONS!! ! ! ! or just even like TELL ME IF YOU HAVE A DRAGON YOU MIGHT WANT TO DATE THEM

[demidiangelo]

hey psst Leah who are your latest OC's and what inspired you to create them with that wonderful mind of yours? ♡

!!!!!!

my latest oc would be from my Mistwood lot which would be Finnegan Laughlin!! he’s a half indian half scottish werewolf that’s a little clumsy with a big heart!!! he’s the curator for Mistwood’s museum and he loves romance !!!!

Finnegan gets along mostly with the fairy/imp twins which is extremely odd given the twins knack for tricks, pranks and crime poakspokw he may or may not have a crush on Koike, the koi fish mermaid mayor of mistwood 👀

here’s a little quote from him, “Be confident in your faults; it makes life easier.”

[sylviesparks]

Lottie aka "The Sweetest Most Innocent Creature Who Never Ever Has Dubious Thoughts Of Any Kind"

[vcsecretgifts]

Christmasing Intensifies

From: @gairid/ @vampchronfic

To: @theballadofmrslovett ( @covenofthearticulate) - Profuse apologies for the lateness of submission. I followed some of your prompts but as very often happens, the characters decided on their own direction. Joyeux Noël - enjoy!

Business at Finnegan’s Easy was brisk when we stopped in, but we managed to find two seats at the far end of the bar. Louis hung the handles of the shopping bag he’d been carrying on the little hook under the bar and began rummaging through it. From mid-bar, Alison, the bartender gave me a nod and a grin, mouthing ‘Regular?’ I nodded.

“Ah.” Louis muttered. “Found it. And the envelopes.”  He straightened his back and set the mentioned items on the bar. He was completely adorable in a bright green Grinch sweater and a Santa hat perched on his head.

“Max and the Grinch!” Alison cried as she approached with two mugs of Bass Ale.

“At your service,” Louis said amiably, doffing the Santa hat with good deal of aplomb. Alison put the mugs in front of us.

“I’d curtsey, but I don’t know how,” she said. She had a radiant smile. I’d always thought so.

“It’s easier if you’re wearing a gown.”  I said.

“If you say so. Hey, I love the uh…antler, Max,” she said with a cheeky nod at my head. “I’m betting those get-ups were your idea.”

“Ha!” I said. “You’d lose that bet! Louis surprised me with the sweaters and headgear.”  I gave her a gleaming smile. This seemed to delight her.

“Should I start a tab, or…”

“Not today, thanks. We have several visits ahead of us,” Louis said, picking up the beautifully wrapped little box and handing it to her. Her dark eyes lit up with pleasure.

“Merry Christmas, Alison.” Louis said warmly.

“Yes–Joyeux Noël, ma chérie.” I pushed the envelopes her way. “And if you wouldn’t mind distributing these among your colleagues? There is one in there for you and please give Raquel our good wishes. ”

“You guys are the best. Really…thank you so much and Merry Christmas to you both.”

An hour or so later, all deliveries done, we sat side by side on a bench in front of the Cathedral listening to a group of carolers enthusiastically charging through ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’. They made up in speed what they may have lacked in tunefulness.

“It will rain later.” Louis remarked. His head was tilted back and his mouth open slightly as he tasted the wind.

“I suppose we should head home. Trust you to invite Armand to a Christmas movie night.” I said, going for a tone of severe annoyance and failing utterly. I didn’t mind that Armand was coming, not really. It’s become a bit of a game and as such things go, it had become comfortable and somehow compelling. “You really are a Grinch, you know that?”

“Oh yes,” he agreed. “A nasty, wasty skunk.” He opened his eyes and turned to look at me. “Come now, Lestat. Don’t deny how completely you enjoy Armand crawling all over you, the frightful little imp. And Daniel will be with him, so it should be an entertaining evening.”

“I’m quite sure our succulent little Amadeo would much rather be crawling all over you, Louis dearest.”

He sniffed. “Not if you put on that terrifying Santa lingerie. I’m certain he’d be most interested in what the …uh…beard covers.” He made a comical face that managed to convey both amusement and horror at the same time.

 An hour and a quarter later we’d greeted our guests with a round of embraces and kisses beneath the enormous, not-not-to-be missed cluster of branched mistletoe hanging from the chandelier in the foyer. I must point out that Armand took complete advantage of the tradition involving mistletoe with both Louis and myself as well as with Daniel. Predictable of course but  as I pointed out  earlier, compelling. When he’s not working hard at appearing aloof and enigmatic, he can be a seductive little creature.

 After welcoming them with the impromptu make-out session, I noticed our guests were dressed alike in expensive cashmere slacks and sweaters colorfully decorated with tiny blinking  lights . I was working out something snide but not too aggressive to say about the sweaters but before I managed it, Louis ushered them upstairs.

 Louis’s prediction was the accurate one; as soon as I sat down, Armand made himself at home beside me and by the time all the Whos down in Whoville were welcoming Christmas Day, he was draped across my lap, but his child-like enjoyment of the cartoon changed the ambiance entirely. By the time we’d got to the Alastair Sim version of ‘A Christmas Carol’, the four of us were sprawled in a comfortable tumble beneath  a comforter.

 “You know, I always thought that perhaps the spirits had driven Ebenezer quite mad, judging by his behaviour on Christmas morning.” Armand said.

 “Such behavior seems normal enough considering the rapid emotional changes Scrooge underwent in the course of one night,” Louis replied.

 “Oh, my god.” Daniel said,  laughing.  “Are you  seriously dissecting this?  The story is one of those whaddayacallit…” He twisted his head around to look at me.

 “Cautionary tale?” I said.

 “Yeah. Close enough.”

 Armand reached and ran his hand through Daniel’s hair. “Just a remark.” he said.

 “Huh.” I said. “By this time I think I recognize the specific ways in which Armand and Louis flirt.”

 Daniel laughed. “Must be preliminary, then. The real seduction begins when they speak Latin to each other.”

 Armand looked over at Louis. “Philistines.”

 Louis nodded in agreement. “Rabble.”

 “As far as I know, I am the only nobility in this room.” I said loftily.

 Armand snorted. “Politesse dictates that remain silent rather than possibly offending you,” he said, shifting in my lap so he could look up at me rather than at the television. “My lord.” he  added with a particularly melting glance.

 “Louis,” Daniel hissed in a dreadfully loud stage whisper, “Please look at me so that I will fall instantly in love with you.”

 “Didn’t he already do that upon your initial meeting?” I asked sweetly.

 Louis made no remark. Instead he slithered across Daniel so they were face to face, mouths very close. Louis gave him a hot little kiss. “Do you love me now? I hope so.” He glanced at the French doors. The band of sky just visible above the roofline of the houses across the street had lightened to gray. “Because it looks like you’ll need to spend the day with us.”

 Louis rose from the couch in his usual graceful way and extended his hand to Daniel. I looked down at Armand. “After your last remark I should toss you out the door, but I will defer to Louis.  The bed’s big enough and of a necessity, our bedroom is the secure one.”

 “Merry Christmas.” Daniel breathed, following Louis from the room. He was still clearly enthralled by Louis’s kiss.

 “Who knows what might happen when we next awaken?”  Armand said musingly. A smug little smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

 I put my arms under Armand and stood, cradling him like a sleepy child. “Who knows?” I set him on his feet.

 “Merry Christmas, Lestat.” he said as we walked companionably down the hall.

 “Merry Christmas, Armand.”

 FIN

[itsworn]

Freiburgers’ Eleven Fun Cars

Among the most common questions that people ask me is, “What’s your favorite car?” I don’t have an answer, because I’m not at all attached to just one year/make/model. To me, the allure of cars is hunting for them and getting to know them and then doing things in them. Hence, I feel the more relevant question is, “What was your most fun car?” Dodging a single answer, here’s my list of the top 11 most fun cars I’ve been involved with, in no particular order.

My 1970 Super Bee is a must on this list because it was my first car, so it trained me about what was fun about being a gearhead—and it was most fun before I spent a jillion bucks restoring it.

My friend and JP magazine Editor Rick Péwé’s flatfender Jeep (Ford GPW) was his first vehicle, and today it’s a trail rig with Buick 455 power that served as inspiration for many people, including me. You can’t help but be carefree when you’re at the wheel.

I put many miles on a 1979 Pontiac Bonneville Safari wagon that was a hand-me-down from my dad. There was nothing that car couldn’t do. I daily’d it, off-roaded it, circle-track–raced it, drag-raced it, slept in it and on it, and drove it cross-country.

My dad also had a 1967 Fairlane wagon that my friends and I cut the roof off of and cruised all summer in the 1980s. It was a riot at the time, but so cringy to think of how we hurt that thing.

Among my most entertaining 4x4s was a 1977 Chevy K10 shortbed on 35s that I didn’t really care about, and it repaid me with refusing to break no matter the volume of sand, rocks, and mud I threw it through. I blasted it to Moab and back with a hole in a piston.

Mike Finnegan’s Blasphemi is a Hemi-powered 1955 Chevy gasser, a car I’d dreamed of building. I was able to help build it and drive it without the expense of owning it. The fantasy was realized as we drove it cross-country, and now he’s hunting for 8-second runs.

If you watch my show, Roadkill, you know the 1968 Dodge Charger we call “General Mayhem.” The original iteration of that beater with a motorhome 440 may be my life’s best accomplishment.

Roadkill also has the “Crusher Impala,” an ugly 1969 coupe powered by the blown big-block that used to be in the “Crusher Camaro.” You can drive the Imp anywhere, not care about the paint, slide it in the dirt, run 11.60s at the dragstrip, and do burnouts for major distance.

I once had an $800, four-colored 1965 F-250 4×4 that took me on many a backroad adventure in my 20-somethings, visiting many places now inaccessible, vandalized, or urbanized. Many memories.

Onetime HOT ROD staffer Will Handzel’s “Budget Beater” was a beat-up Model A roadster on a new TCI chassis—long before “rat rodding” was a thing. That car made street rods fun for a younger generation.

The land-speed–racing Camaro owned by Keith and Tonya Turk and raced in partnership with me has brought me much joy through record-setting success. Racing is often more work than fun, but the retelling of epic stories only grows as the years pass. I’m working on a new ProCharger small-block for the car now.

None of the cars on my list would be seen in the power-parking area of a big car show. Most of them you could own or build, or at least a reasonable facsimile. In the words of the late HOT ROD Senior Editor Gray Baskerville, “You can’t take this $%!* too seriously.” In my own less-famous words, “Don’t get it right, just get it running.” Then hit the road and have fun. —David Freiburger

My Super Bee as seen in the mirror of the “Crusher Camaro” somewhere in Utah. It’s hard to believe I’ve had that orange car for 35 years.

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[sylviesparks]

Various Kazoobers (Kazoo + Goobers) that I sketched up to test out a brush from a set I downloaded, as well as how I felt about drawing on a textured background. Pleased to report that both went well :)