Jupe was the sort of person who would wheel spin in front of a large crowd at a bus stop for attention and at the tender age of thirty one and a mere 25 stone you could say that he still enjoyed giving it large, around the waist maybe!
He cruised around with the mirrors behind the front seat and just as he was enjoying a quiet and peaceful drive in the sun the cruise was hiked to a customary confrontation, surprise surprise.
He was summoned to the attentions of a millennium neantherdal humper; dearly and lovingly named a Chav, run for cover people they are so scary!
The chav cut him right up overtaking the MG and screeching off.
Jupe was a bit pissed to say the least and in front of him he could clearly see the Chav and his wee bonk scrota awaiting his presence at the lights.
Jupe pulled up to the lights and looked over his right shoulder at the two breathing rectums.
The Chav and his bitch were driving a Fiat Punto as yellow as a canary and as shiny as Jupes head.
The music was thumping and the bass was forcing his girlfriend?s bleached blonde mop to jump up in rhythm to the sound of the beat.
They swapped looks like two closet gladiators in Rome about to throw down their weapons and crack each other?s buns open, nasty!
Jupe looked over at the Chavs Burberry porn slave and she returned the look with her middle finger, how charming.
Their withdrawn features suggested that they were gagging for a WKD medicinal top up drink; Wait a minute, I know a good poison, hehehe.
The chav was inspired by her aggression and proceeded to rev the engine in his boxy yellow banana.
At first Jupe thought, "nah can?t be doing with this", but his ego was dominating his thirst for a wee adrenalin buzz and as the blood began to course through his veins rapidly, like nitrous oxide up a junkie?s arsehole, the proposition bitched him up and he returned the revving two folds.
Neither of them would look at each other now and with both hands tightly gripped to the steering wheel, gear stick in first gear, right foot reviving hard and the anticipation on the gas pedal the race was on.
Neither of them could afford to lose, Jupe could not be defeated by the small cum spat of a spotty prick and his skid marked snow faced passenger.
The Chav had everything to lose, risking the passions of his little bleached clitoris?s attentions if he was to be humiliated by an over grown subcutaneous fat cell with limbs.
The lights were red and so were their eyes in sheer desperation and concentration. The music was being drowned out in the background by the sound of their crescendos beating wildly within their male pride and it was loud enough to aggravate a deaf rabbit.
You could cut the tension with a magicians saw when suddenly the lights turned amber, then green and they were off. Wheels spinning into action, smoke from the tyres filling the air, it was an image out of the Cheech and Chong films, "must have some weed smoke man!"
First gear, rrrrrrrrr, sssssclush, rrrrr clushhhh, second then third gear, the cars were roaring like bears in traps. The Chavs bolted out of the blocks like Sheargar hoping to escape his captures and not become the golden arches latest seasoned one ninety nine meal deal.
The Chavs turbo charger was propelling the car forwards and he was kicking some big butt.
The punto shot ahead like an ejaculated sperm with a rocket up its canal leaving the blob lagging behind. Jupes phsyical image didn?t even shrink in the Chavs rear view mirror, how strange?
Jupe was still labouring, his car was moving like the specification made for Laurel and Hardy and he was losing drastically.
However, slowly but surely his MG began to pick up speed and in no time he had the puberty duo in his sights.
They were flying down the A12 dual carriage way like bank robbers being chased by police except this copper was more like JD Hogg rather than Rascal Picall from the Dukes of Hazard.
You could hear the dump valve on the Chavs turbo spitting air into the engine like a giant volcanic eruption and Jupe was feeling the pressure.
Jupes exhaust pipe was scraping along the ground tinkering and clobbering the underneath of the car and the tyres were almost deflated at the rims.
The MG was in trouble; his arse was more luggage than the poor car could pull. I swear to you it resembled a chariot gladiator being pulled by a pair of donkeys with swine flu.
The glow of sparks from his MG made a spectacle like a fire work rocket that never left the ground and the chav was still streaming ahead.
They could see the approaching junction in their sights becoming ever closer.
The first through the lights would be considered the winner of this dual so the end for Jupe seemed inevitable.
The punto was almost there and screeching to a halt at the immediate lights ahead the chav looked like he was about to win, being over 30 metres in front of his meat headed enemy.
Crawling towards the lights to antagonise Jupe the Chav and his anorexic bag of powdered bones were prematurely celebrating victory.
The chavette stuck her right hand out of the window holding a blue WKD vodka bottle, champagne substitute, to deflate the approaching meteorite when to thier horror Jupe sped passed them unexpectantly managing to drive through the lights before them as they turned from amber to red and win the race!
The fools, they had misjudged the situation and had slowed down at the lights to rub his nose in it only to allow him the opportunity to pass them like a freight train.
Their faces turned white with terror as they saw the man made mountain of cartillage fly past their almost stationery four wheeled turd. They looked in the distance in disbelief and squealed loudly like two piggys in a bacon slicer; preheat the grill people!
Full stories at gymkracks blogsite.