Out at the two lane blacktop racing strip, a crowd gathered after hearing about the race. It was a quarter of a mile of perfectly straight and smooth road in the country. Billy arrived and pulled up to the starting line. He revved his powerful V8 engine, and his friends all piled out. The cosmetic and performance enhancements of his AMG caught everyone's attention. The crowd kept growing and he started getting fidgety. The Studebaker pulled up against him, ready to go. The AMG aerodynamic front air dam on his car looked so cool, and the other wagon just looked like a piece of crap. Soon they were ready to start.



Someone used a flashlight to signal the start of the race. The other vehicle took off, lumbering down the road like a turtle on high octane caffeine. Billy waited a while before taking his foot off the brake and passing the gas. The spectators thought something was wrong. When the other car was perhaps one half way to the finish line, Billy floored it.



His wagon went nowhere at first, tires spinning and smoke pouring from the pavement. Then the rubber caught traction. The car moved slowly. Then as more traction was gained, the whining engine began to bear the sound of a load. Suddenly the car lurched forward in one gigantic explosion forward, propelling Billy behind 600 horsepower. The car became a missile on wheels, leaving the other wagon in a cloud of smoke from quad exhaust outlets, as Billy crossed the finish line. Billy loved the Mercedes-Benz E63, so much. People ran to great him in his wagon. Then he woke from his daydream and went back to finishing his school exam.