Chapter 143: Mean Mug
The street was enthusiastic, the symphony of revving engines drowning the raving of spectators.
The race hadn’t yet begun, but the excitement was palpable.
"As you may have noticed," Averie addressed the camera while buckling his seatbelt, "we are on the outskirts of the city, which means we haven’t completely abandoned safety yet."
He twirled a finger in the air.
"If someone were to die, it would either be a murderer burying his victim or some jobless drunk. In either case, we are doing a great service to society."
He adjusted the rear-view mirror so he could see his face and not what was happening in the back.
"I mean, hey, if the victim is still alive, they sure ain’t gonna stay that way after getting hit by a fuckton of horsepower. Life comes at you fast, but I am coming at you faster."
As the revving engines quieted down and the hooting of barn owls pierced the silence, the charming ladies cleared the road.
Averie placed his hands firmly on the steering wheel.
"We have a massive advantage over the others." He lowered his voice to match the gravity of the silence. "We are located at the front of the grid, which is called the pole position."
The cars were arranged in parallel, with space between them, in a zig-zag pattern.
Averie’s Supra was at the front.