"That car will not, not ever, not with any chip in the history of the known universe go 150 mph."
That's FUNNY. Can I paraphrase that?
Here's the background. Once upon a time, when I was young and stoopid, this guy was assigned to the same shop I was on the mighty war-pig Nimitz. We worked the same shifts, and he lived in the little hamlet of Poulsbo (sp?), Washington.
He had a house, and I had an apartment about three miles away. A buddy in San Diego sold me a rusty, brown POS '71 Pontiac Ventura with a big engine, a ridiculous hood scoop and a three-speed floor-shifter in it for a buck, and I spent quite a while sorting the car out.
I'd had a Nova before, so it didn't seem like a bad idea to tinker with something familiar.
Dave (Fiero guy) was really handy with a wrench and had 20 or so years of shade-tree mechanic experience. He knew more than I did, and there was always Guinness on hand -- so we had a good time and built an even better POS than what had existed before.
Bodywork was Bondo, paint was ACE "on-sale-red" and the interior was aluminum, vinyl and shag. (Yeah, Baby, yeah.)
That car got tinkered with in his garage and I drove my Crown Brick day-to-day until it was finished. I drove it for a while after it was done, beat the crap out of it at the Olympic Speedway and eventually sold it back to the same guy I had gotten it from, an aircraft mechanic who went by the nickname Ozone.
Ozone wrecked it a few months later on a track in San Diego. I wasn't even a little bit sad. Meanwhile, Dave needed another project, so I sold him my Subaru Brat for a dollar. He's like that; buy it on its last legs and bring it to its knees.
Now, a hundred years later, he's TC'd a Fiero. He's in Italy, 'bout ready to retire to North Dakota, and he's been tinkering with this thing for about two years. I have no idea what he's done to it, but I can safely bet the body's ragged-out, the interior's probably bone-barbaric and there might or might not be window glass. He probably bought it for a buck and put $500 or so into it.
He is a funny guy, though. Maybe he's finally done one right. Either way, it'll be good to see him again; we're going to meet at my dad's house in St. Louis sometime after his retirement in April.
(And, now that I'm thinking about my past rides, I'll go see what I have for pictures.)