#horsepower trap

[your-fave-gets-saw-trapped]

Scout (team fortress 2) is in the Horsepower Trap (saw 3d)!

requested by anon!

[artblooger19moon]

Mark Hoffman

SAW

[kylestfs]

Can I get the Dodge Charger, I feel that whatever I get it’s going to be hot asf

You pull up to my parking lot in your newly acquired charger. As you arrive, you take a look at some troublemakers flexing their high horsepower cars and motorcycles…mostly jocks and bikers. You step out of the vehicle just to find a strong need for you to have authority over them, and to go make them pay for what they’re doing. As you walk towards them, each step causes your lanky body to turn into a bulky, hot young cop. Your charger gains new light bars and the word « POLICE » written on both sides. Each step also makes your new foot funk escape of your big police boots. You immediately put a hot biker in your police cruiser, and start hotboxing him…feeling the need to release all the pressure and farting in the car to make him PAY and to make him OBEY. Your farts are loud, like actual thunder and smell rancid. They’re super hot and steamy, and feel so good when they come out of your butt….theyre also getting trapped into the biker’s helmet…to make him OBEY authorities forever and making his helmet smell like your fart fumes for the rest of his bike rides.

Age : 28

Name: Jim

1Q: 110

Personality: Very dominant and only wants to spread his farts on lawbreakers. Overall just masculine and feels the need to tell people how strong and powerful he is.

Sexuality : 100% straight, and very needy…

Body type: Pretty stock, not overly muscular but lean and strong. Gorgeous Stallion body,

Overall attractiveness : 10/10

Private's size : 4 inches hard, you need to compensate by spreading your authority.

Rear end size: Big, strong stallion rear end, always stretches your police pants but stays very steady when you walk, showing a strong and firm, very hard butt.

Overall B.O: 9/10 (Strong, masculine young manly stink).

Armpit scent: Sweaty, salty, strong funk.

Overall B.O: 9/10 (Strong, masculine young manly stink).

Armpit scent: Very sweaty due to how heavy your police gear is, and smells excessively strong.

Gassiness: 8.5/10 - You were created to make people understand authority using your farts, either by shoving them directly in your big butt or just hotboxing them into your police cruiser until they pass out from the disgusting fumes.

Foot smell: Smells like a very strong and sharp French cheese, and extremely potent and smells rancid. You have multiple pair of your police boots because people at your station just cannot handle it.

Muscles: Strong sweaty horse muscles

As requested, I’m going to mention that this is a fictional story.

[xxmidnight-scarxx]

Saw fun facts :

Saw 2004 was filmed in 18 days

Cary Elwes actually got locked in the saw 1 bathroom because they were using real shackles and they used a pin that was a little bit too big and it got stuck

Tobin bell was not originally supposed to play jigsaw. The role was originally going to go to the person who plays paul in saw 1 (the guy in the razor wire maze)

Every saw trap was made to function in real life

Saw 0.5 was the very beginning of saw, which came out in 2003 (its on youtube if you want to watch it)

120,000 REAL syringes were used for the needle pit trap in saw 2 (the needles were replaced with a flexible piece of plastic)

Chester bennington from linkin park was in saw 7. He played a racist guy called evan, he was in the horsepower trap.

The reverse bear trap was used 3 times in 10 movies (4 if you count saw 0.5)

[deliciousangelfestival]

Tears In His Ferrari || Chp 2 - Bucky

Character: Bucky Barnes x Farmer!Reader

Words Count: 2,414

Series: Chap 1 , Chap 2 , Chap 3 , Chp 4 , Chp 5 , Chp 6 , Chp 7, Chp 8 , Chp 9 , Chp 10 , Chp 11 , Chp 12.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Y/N led Bucky across the vast expanse of the empty land, gesturing to the possibilities it held for cultivating crops like potatoes, barley, and corn.

Bucky turned to Y/N, inquisitive about quick profits, "Which crops would bring in fast returns?"

Y/N replied with a smirk, "Barley. You could make beer."

A grin spread across Bucky's face, "Now that's more my style."

Y/N's smirk deepened, "It's not as easy as you think."

Little did Bucky know, he was about to learn the hard way. The first challenge came from a seemingly simple piece of machinery—the farm tractor. Y/N led him to the garage, revealing the aged tractor that awaited Bucky's command.

Inspecting the tractor skeptically, Bucky remarked, "Is it still working?"

Y/N chuckled, "Don't underestimate this machine. I bet it's stronger than your sports car."

Feeling a pang of offense, Bucky couldn't let his beloved Ferrari be belittled. "Hey, now, don't diss my Ferrari. It's a beast on the road."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, "Roads and fields are a whole different story, city boy. Time to see if you can handle the horsepower of a different kind."

With that, she gestured toward the tractor, silently challenging Bucky to prove himself in the unfamiliar realm of farming machinery.

Unfazed by Bucky's awestruck expression, Y/N rolled her eyes and led him toward the storage building. As the creaking wooden door swung open, Bucky marveled at the sheer size of the space.

Pointing towards a massive bag of seeds, Y/N explained, "Your father has provided you with various types of seeds – barley, potatoes, corn, tomatoes."

Bucky's eyes widened, his initial enthusiasm dampening as he took in the overwhelming array of possibilities. The enormity of the task ahead made him question the wisdom of his impulsive bet with his father.

Interning with a photocopier seemed like a more appealing option at that moment. "How am I supposed to plant all of this?"

Without missing a beat, Y/N tossed the tractor key in Bucky's direction, and he caught it reflexively.

"That's why you need to learn how to drive the tractor so you can plant the seeds," Y/N explained matter-of-factly.

Grumbling under his breath, Bucky muttered, "I'm a race car driver. This should be a piece of cake."

Y/N smirked, her eyes challenging, "Show me what you got."

His usual confidence wavered as Bucky settled into the tractor's driver's seat. The buttons and controls before him were a far cry from his sports car's sleek, modern interface, and his mind went momentarily blank.

He turned to Y/N, whose expression seemed to say, 'I told you so.' Y/N casually climbed into the tractor and closed the door, leaving Bucky trapped.

"What... what are you doing?" Bucky stammered, caught off guard by her sudden actions.

Y/N, seemingly unfazed, responded, "I'm going to teach you."

As Y/N took her place beside him, she explained the functions of the various levers and buttons. "This lever controls the speed, and these buttons engage different gears. It's not as fast as your sports car, but it gets the job done."

Bucky furrowed his brow, trying to absorb the information. "Wait, how do I steer this thing?"

Y/N couldn't help but be amused by Bucky's struggle. "Grip the wheel. It's not a race car, but it will go where you point it. Just don't expect it to handle like a Ferrari."

Bucky, feeling a bit challenged, took hold of the steering wheel. Y/N guided him through starting the tractor, adjusting the speed, and even how to handle turns. As the tractor chugged along the field, Bucky's initial frustration gave way to a sense of accomplishment.

Y/N, with a playful glint in her eye, remarked, "See, not so hard, is it? Now, let's tackle the next challenge: planting those seeds. Just follow my lead, and you might survive this farm life after all."

As the tractor rumbled across the empty plot of land, Bucky's initial confidence in driving the machine began to wane. Y/N, seated beside him, looked over and noted, "Now comes the real work, Bucky. We need to prepare the land before planting. First up, we're plowing the field."

Bucky, still grasping the basics of tractor operation, nodded hesitantly. "Plowing, got it."

But as the tractor started breaking up the soil, turning it over in preparation for planting, Bucky's initial sense of ease gave way to a growing realization.

Y/N continued her instructions, "After plowing, we'll need to disc over the field to break down any remaining clumps. Then comes harrowing to create a fine seedbed. It's all about setting the stage for a successful crop."

Bucky, now fully immersed in farming, couldn't help but feel the weight of the responsibilities. The tasks seemed to multiply in complexity as Y/N guided him through each step. "Checking soil moisture, adding amendments," Y/N listed the next steps.

Stress crept into Bucky's expression. The carefree city boy was now confronted with the intricacies of farming, and the reality of the challenge ahead began to dawn on him. The initial thrill of learning to drive the tractor now seemed like the calm before the storm of agricultural tasks.

As Bucky navigated the tractor through the various steps, the once-clear field transformed into a canvas of potential but also of hard work and uncertainty. Farming, it turned out, was not as straightforward as Bucky had initially assumed.

The complexities of each step weighed on him, and the realization that success required more than just driving a machine left Bucky feeling a bit overwhelmed in the vast expanse of the field.

Y/N, with a critical eye, examined the two rows Bucky had managed to plow. "Good start. Now, the most crucial part is marking the rows. Proper spacing is vital for each crop to have enough room to grow."

Bucky, feeling a renewed sense of determination, listened attentively. "Spacing, got it. I can do this."

With a pat on Bucky's shoulder, Y/N remarked, "I'll leave the rest to you. I'm heading to the storage to set up the planter. Just follow the markers and maintain that consistent spacing. You've got this."

Bucky nodded, a mix of confidence and a hint of nervous energy. He watched as Y/N walked away toward the storage building, disappearing from view. The vastness of the field lay before him, and the responsibility of marking rows and maintaining proper spacing now rested squarely on his shoulders.

As Bucky confidently guided the tractor with a touch of creativity, he failed to anticipate the storm brewing in Y/N's eyes. When she caught sight of the unconventional row, frustration and disbelief etched across her face, transforming the once tranquil farming lesson into a battlefield of precision.

Bucky, riding high on a renewed sense of confidence, guided the tractor with newfound ease. The once-daunting task of marking rows now felt like second nature. As he envisioned the thriving crops that would soon fill the marked rows, a touch of creativity struck him. With a confident smile, he decided to deviate from the straight path and add a unique twist to the rows.

However, when Y/N caught sight of the unconventional row, any expectations of praise were shattered. With a furrowed brow and an exasperated sigh, she approached Bucky.

"Are you an idiot?" she exclaimed, her voice mixed with frustration and disbelief.

Bucky, taken aback by the unexpected outburst, stammered, "I thought it added a bit of flair, you know? A touch of artistic expression."

Y/N, unamused, shot back, "This isn't an art project, Bucky. We need straight, evenly spaced rows for the crops to grow properly. Precision is key in farming, not whimsical curves."

The contrast between Bucky's expectation of admiration and the reality of Y/N's frustration added a comedic twist to the scene.

Bucky once again reminded of the challenges of farm life, begrudgingly adjusted the tractor's course to adhere to Y/N's insistence on precision in agricultural practices.

Y/N, initially poised for a straightforward mentoring session, found herself grappling with unexpected stress. The deviation from the meticulous plan heightened her frustration, but she pushed through, determined to teach Bucky the intricacies of farming.

In the heat of the moment, Y/N's instructions became more pointed, her tone reflecting her unexpected challenges. She corrected Bucky with a mix of exasperation and dedication, her initial ease replaced by the demanding reality of mentoring a city boy in the intricacies of agriculture.

For Bucky, who had never been lectured in such a manner throughout his privileged life, each correction felt like a blow to his ego. The vast gap between his accustomed world of opulence and the demanding simplicity of the farm became painfully apparent.

After tirelessly plowing the empty plot under Y/N's scrutinizing gaze, Bucky retreated to the solace of his Ferrari. The familiar sight of the sleek, modern interior provided a momentary respite from the challenges of the farm. However, as he looked around at the sophisticated simplicity of the car, a single tear escaped his eye.

In a moment of vulnerability, Bucky muttered, "It's not as easy as I thought." The weight of the unfamiliar reality sank in, and the contrast between the comfort of his luxury car and the toil of the farm highlighted the stark challenges he faced in adapting to this new, humble way of life.

As Bucky wiped away the unexpected tear on his first day, he couldn't shake the surreal feeling accompanying the shift from the farm to his new home. As he stepped inside, the scene awaiting him was anything but ordinary. A group of middle-aged women buzzed around his house, each engrossed in various tasks—cleaning, arranging, and transforming the space into a semblance of order.

Bucky, clearly taken aback, couldn't contain his shock. "Who are you people?" he exclaimed, his eyes darting between the industrious women.

The group paused their activities, turning to face Bucky with warm smiles. In their midst stood Y/N's mother, a matronly figure radiating hospitality. Their collective greeting washed over Bucky, and he found himself amid an impromptu welcome party.

This practice, a tradition among the locals, was their way of extending a warm welcome to the new neighbor. Unaccustomed to such communal gestures, Bucky appreciated their kindness, although hunger and fatigue urged him to seek some solitude.

Summoning a sweet smile, Bucky politely asked the woman to leave, expressing his need for rest. Understanding his request, the guests bid farewell, leaving Bucky alone in his newfound abode.

Just as he thought he could finally catch his breath, Y/N's voice cut through the silence with an unexpected remark. "They're here to butter you up," she deadpanned, her unfiltered words catching Bucky off guard.

His gasp was met with Y/N's nonchalant dismissal. "That mouth of yours," Bucky retorted, feeling a mix of surprise and amusement at her audacity.

Ignoring his comment, Y/N dropped a bag of groceries at his feet. "Your family sent this," she informed him, the gesture a mix of duty and detached concern.

Bucky, leaning down to inspect the contents, discovered essential supplies that betrayed a hint of paternal consideration. The realization that his father hadn't wholly forsaken him stirred conflicting emotions within Bucky. Gratitude mingled with the sting of newfound humility.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Bucky questioned Y/N about her earlier statement. "What did you mean with 'butter you up'?" he inquired, trying to decipher the cryptic remark.

Y/N responded with a disinterested glance, "Don't you know? Your family owns almost all the land around here."

Slowly shaking his head in disbelief, Bucky muttered, "Wow, really?" The weight of his family's extensive holdings began to sink in, and Y/N's nonchalant tone left him dumbfounded.

"Can't believe one day you'll be the head of the company," Y/N remarked casually, her tone a mixture of disbelief and detached observation.

Without waiting for Bucky's response, she turned on her heels and left his residence, leaving him grappling with her animosity's mysteries.

Left alone, Bucky found himself at a loss for words. "Why does she keep being angry with me?" he mused aloud, frustration building. He slammed the door shut in sheer exasperation, the resounding thud echoing his bewilderment.

As Y/N entered her home, exhaustion weighed heavily on her. Her mother, Samantha, observed her daughter's weary expression and couldn't help but smile. Y/N wasted no time in expressing her discontent, questioning the rationale behind the warm welcome extended to the new neighbor.

"Why did you and others welcome him?" Y/N's bitterness toward large companies like Barnes lingered, casting a shadow over her perspective.

Samantha, with a knowing glint in her eyes, let out a light giggle. "Oh, you, you have to welcome the new neighbor, besides, he's cute."

Y/N responded with an eye roll, unamused by her mother's seemingly lighthearted take on the situation.

Samantha sighed, aware of the pain Y/N still carried from letting go of the land they once owned. She took a moment to address her daughter's lingering resentment. "I know you don't like him because of what happened. But without them buying the land, all the farmers here would have ended up losing their source of living."

Y/N raised her head to meet her mother's gaze. Samantha continued, sharing a piece of history that shaped their community. "Back then, when your grandparents were still alive, there was a lean period where nothing could grow. Everyone was losing their source of income. Until the Barnes family stepped in because one of their own had grown up here."

"The Barnes allowed the farmers to live and work; they just needed to pay rent."

Y/N interjected, a hint of bitterness in her voice, "And the rent keeps getting higher."

Samantha shrugged her shoulders, acknowledging the harsh reality. "Well, that's how it is, but none of the farmers have complained, though."

She tenderly stroked her daughter's head, offering a comforting perspective. "Be kind to him. Just see him as a little kid learning how to walk."

Y/N nodded, absorbing her mother's words. She decided to take her mother's advice to heart, even if the road ahead seemed fraught with challenges.

Meanwhile, at Bucky's location, an unexpected sneeze escaped him. "Did someone talk about me?"

Unaware that he had just been likened to a learning child, Bucky continued navigating the unfamiliar farm life territory, oblivious to the nuanced dynamics at play.

Chapters: Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3 , Chp 4 , Chp 5 , Chp 6 , Chp 7

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[seat-safety-switch]

"We want to know your opinions," begins the automated newspaper pollster on the other end of the line. "Because you are one of the few people left alive on this Earth who answer your phone to an unknown number, we believe that anything you tell us in the survey is clearly indicative of the average person."

A bit wordy, but I was willing to play along. No reason to tell them that I had only picked up my phone because I thought it was Mr. Cho, my AliExpress broker, who I expected to be giving me a progress update on "Project Make An Entire Plymouth Volare Unibody And Mail It To Me." Soon, I was pushing buttons and letting my opinions be known on contentious social issues. Surely, everyone in a decision-making capacity would have a firm grasp of statistics and not confuse anything my crackpot ass said for actual-factual reasoned belief.

Friends, I was wrong about that. It turns out that I am literally the only person dumb enough to answer one of these telephone surveys. A bunch of researchers called up afterward to make sure I wasn't some kind of escaped dementia patient, put me on speakerphone and everything. I thought fast, of course, and I think my answer ("I was trapped in a public toilet") satisfied them.

Based on the story so far, you may now understand why the new public transit buses have nine-hundred-horsepower nitromethane-burning V12 engines. Also why the highways now have FIA racetrack curbs mounted on corners, and the speed limit has quintupled. Of course, I'm still waiting to hear back on my proposal that the government subsidize Pontiac ownership, but I admit that it is a bit of a niche market that won't translate into many actual votes.

If you'll excuse me, the robot is calling me again. I don't plan on running out of crackpot beliefs anytime soon, but I will probably not get around to most of them today. It's simply too important that we convert all available golf courses to rally racing tracks, ideally while the rich folks are still trying to drive their dorky little golf carts on them.

[behindthescreamz]

chester bennington as evan and dru viergever as dan filming the “horsepower trap” scene on the set of “saw 3d” (2010)

[smashorpassmakeyourchoice]

Which character has the most passes?

these two racists from the horsepower trap in 3D are tied

[litualiamortuaria]

I think Adam would be the rack trap (get it? Cause he broke all his bones?)

Good idea

(I forgot that trap existed)

Mark: Claustrophobic room (because he was traped in a room for 3 days)

Cesar: i don't know

Jonah: Horsepower trap (because he encountered an alternate in a car)

Adam: The rack (because he broke his bones)

[white-weasel]

Notes:

I didn’t add any traps where I’m relying on someone else to save me. All of these are ones where I have to Do Something in order to live. So that also excluded Daniel Rigg and Eric Matthews’ tests from the pool since you win those by doing nothing (and also probably don’t count as actual traps but? Meh)

Going with the above, if any trap mentioned has multiple people, assume I’m the one who has to Do The Thing for us to survive

Assume all traps play out as explained/intended. This means that rigged traps (i.e. the Angel Trap and the Pendulum) are technically winnable in this world, even if winning would suck majorly

Tried to pick my top 10 that are the most contentious about survivability. I’m pretty sure 99% of us think we could survive something like the bucket head trap so I’m not including it on this poll lmao

[soullessjack]

fave saw trap?

OOHH oh my god okay I have so many.

Obligatory reverse bear trap mention bc who doesn’t love her, she’s mother. she is the beginning with John and Amanda and she is the end with Jill and Mark, she brings the narrative to a full circle despite her mechanical function being the opposite.

THE BATHROOM TRAP!!!!!! Obsessed with it. The shades of blue and white and the fluorescent lights, the grimy browns and greens and reds, all so absolutely beautiful together. Really pulls you into the dampness and coldness and the filth of it. Obligatory chainshipping mention also. Love those guys. Very normal about them.

the angel trap and its’ fatality is so so visually beautiful to me. she mothers extremely hard (god rest Kerry tho). truly one of the artsiest of the traps. I love the warmish shade of green in the room, and in the acid, and of course I love it contrasting with the red shade of the ribcage gore.

glass coffin for obvious reasons.. mark is soooo delicious in it with his hair all messy and his nose bleeding and his tits propped up I mean what hahah who said that . and I absolutely love the cold shade of blue it gives off, very lovely contrast with marks nosebleed also. and the whole coffinshipping thing. like it’s such a trust-based trap ironically. like, “you know what I’ve done you know who I am you know I am guilty and cannot be trusted whatsoever but will you throw away all of that and trust me anyways, is your will to survive strong enough to trust someone who ostensibly does not deserve it.” so delicious

I don’t like Jigsaw but I will admit the hot wax trap looked pretty cool, definitely one of the scariest of the movie. if you’ve ever seen 2005’s House of Wax it gives the same literally suffocating and uncomfortable feeling as Jared Padalecki’s character’s wax coating (and the horrendous peeling of it) bc you’re watching someone in such a helpless horrible position and relegated only to watching it.

the death mask is another super cool visual trap, love the green tint, love the spikes, even Michael’s eye injury looked cool! the snapping kill at the end was definitely cool too.

the nerve gas house 100% fav. I love saw 2 very dearly, both for Daniel and Amanda and for Mudvayne’s Forget To Remember song in the credits. I didn’t enjoy most of the traps in the house, mostly bc I felt like they could’ve been easily avoided or thought out better (but in the victims’ defense they were actively being poisoned) and also bc I wasn’t very attached to anyone outside of Danny and Mandy. Love the atmosphere of the house, the grime and dim fluorescence and yellow-greens (as a graphic designer warm tints like that are very good at giving off a sense of humidity and feverishness, really adds to the nerve gas poisoning and the claustrophobia of the house, too).

the horsepower trap. quick bonus for the green and yellows tints, but also I’m personally very drawn to settings with mechanical clutter. I’m not mechanically inclined in any way but visually I love looking at them and figuring out what they do. based mark for putting nazis in an inescapable trap also! the kills are deliciously brutal. the skin ripping scene, the windshield crash, the face smashing, and my absolute favorite has to be the arm/jaw yanking (specifically the jaw, idk I just think it’s neat. maybe not neat , per se, but one of those extremely gruesome things that you just can’t look away from. no pun intended it’s like a car crash).

the Mausoleum Trap. love the setting, a trap in a fucking mausoleum is metal as fuck. more traps should have spooky settings like that I think (a morgue trap would go so fucking hard also). love the colors, basically I love the entire concept but the execution could’ve bene way better (which can be said about a lot of 3D’s themes, especially the See/Hear/Speak/Do No Evil ones).

[xxmidnight-scarxx]

Every saw trap i know :

Reverse bear trap

Bathroom trap

Flammable jelly trap

Razor wire maze

Nerve gas house

Furnace trap

Razor box trap

Needle pit trap

Classroom trap

Angel trap

The rack trap

Ice block trap

Scalp seat trap

Glass coffin trap

Water box trap

Collar trap

Mason jars trap

Electric bathtub trap

10 pints of sacrifice trap

Reverse bear trap 2.0

Shotgun carousel trap

Oxygen crusher trap

Pound of flesh trap

Lawnmower trap

Love triangle trap

Brazen bull trap

Silent circle trap

Horsepower trap

Laser collar trap

Bucket head trap

Grain silo trap

Wax boarding trap

Marionette trap

Blood boarding trap

Eye suction trap

Brain surgery trap

Radiation trap

Bone marrow trap

Shotgun collar trap

Dont ask how i know this many lol

[same-on-the-inside]

Name is evan. Im a 21 year old jigsaw survivor.. My trap cost me my back, but made me a better person i guess, so yay jigsaw?? Im kinda just on here for food pics and tattoos, so dont expect me to post much

//OOC HERE WITH SOME INFO!!!!!! this is a saw 3d rp blog of evan from the horsepower trap.. now ik he DIDNT actually survive the trap, but this is based off of the scrapped fate for him, where he survived and went to the hospital.

also according to the wiki, evan is probably like, charismatic?? so im gonna try to go for that, while also keeping in mind that he's kinda just a wannabe bad boy lol

MY EVAN PLAYLIST:

DISCLAIMER!!!

i do not condone racism in any way, shape or form, even if this character's main canon personality is him being racist. the story im going for is that the trap made evan learn that what he was doing was super fucked up, ditched his girlfriend/friends, and try to start a new life or something?? it might be lame who knows

mod is literally a puerto rican goth chic that only felt like she wanted to do this because of linkin park :P run by @cavejebus

just doing this for funnnnnn don't be shy to interact cuz im SO BORED!!!! ALSO i've only seen saw 2004 and saw 3d up to the end of evan's trap so i might be a little inaccurate

[seat-safety-switch]

A funny thing happens when you become an old car person, and not just an old car person. You start caring more about reliability. All these folks I knew who used to have exotic high-horsepower race engines in their psychotic rally builds now have 15 year old Honda Accords. And they love them.

All these backyard barbecue brags about trap speed, or fleeing the police, or winning first at nats no longer mean anything. The delusions of a young and reckless mind. Now, the thing that we are the most envious of on each others' cars is working air conditioning. The colder the better. If you can pair that with fuel economy below 7L/100km? You, my friend, are king shit in my circles.

Of course, that doesn't mean that all of us grew up. I myself have degenerated even further. My whole daily-driver experience is about forcing engines with single-digit compression ratios and iron blocks forged by street urchins in the 1800s into making enough power to merge without getting squashed by a brand-new Toyota minivan with five times the horses on offer. I bet that damn van has air conditioning, too, which will make my demise even more depressing.

Until that happens, though, I will continue to hold out the punk-rock ethos of shitbox ownership. My friends will continue to come over, look at the huge mess of oily turbocharged carnage spreading across my back forty, and get out quickly before I notice them and ask them to help me put in a new intercooler. Their cars are so quiet and so reliable now that they don't even have to ask me for jumper cables before they can start the engine to flee.