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a 510 christmas


Skib

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Twas' the night before Christmas, I'm really quite bored.

Not much to do. The 510, it's now stored.

Parts catalogs spread out all over the house.

The list just keeps growing, and there's threats from the spouse.

She's thinking of carpet, a new sofa and chair.

While I'm dreaming Goodyear race tires, so fair.

 

Then out by the garage there arose such a clatter.

The wife and I wondered what was the matter.

I got to the door and unlocked the latch.

Then opened it slowly, and looked outside, (natch)

The security light shone on new-fallen snows.

I thought, "Five more months 'til all this crap goes!"

 

Then rounding the corner, but what should appear.

A Kenworth Transporter, with a pit crew, (no deer).

The driver, he shouted, as they pulled up out back.

"Get the door, and some coffee. Make it strong, make it black!"

 

In a flash they jumped out, and I thought I was dreaming.

I hit the remote, to the garage they went streaming.

There was Devendorf and Brock and Harris and Morton.

Smith and Sharp and Waar and yes, Newman!

 

>From the front of the grill, to the welded rear-end,

they mapped out a plan, and then started right in.

It wouldn't be easy, but they said they would try.

They'd give it their best. They'd make my Dime fly.

 

So to the transporter, a few of them flew,

for carbs and some sparkplugs, a PanaSport or two.

And then in a twinkling, they all had returned,

And Devendorf said, "You got money to burn?!"

 

As I drew out my wallet, (and looked round for the spouse),

Sharp, he just grinned, "This one's on the house."

 

He wore red, white, and blue, from his head to his foot.

Out of his pocket, came his black tuning book.

The boxes of parts were spread out on the bench,

and they all grabbed their tools, and started to wrench.

 

My eyes, how they twinkled, as the plan was now hatched.

New headers and cam, heads ported and matched.

The tranny was dropped and closely inspected.

The lap times would fall from what we'd projected.

 

Titanium valves and some new, stronger springs.

New pistons and bearings, and FOUR GOLD-DEN RINGS.

The suspension was lubed and all readjusted.

While one worked on bumpsteer, another de-rusted.

 

Their work almost done, and I said, "This is great!"

"But it's twenty below. I've got five months to wait!."

With a wink of his eye, and a slap on my back.

Pete Brock transported us all to a track!

 

The car sounded strong, as I drove out of the pits.

Harris nodded and said, "Yes, it seems it all fits.

I warmed the beast up, and lapped kinda slow.

Then they gave me the nod. To downshift! To go!.

I launched real hard, the Mikunis did whistle.

And away I flew like a well guided missile.

 

They could hear me exclaim, countersteering hard right,

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

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  • 1 year later...

hahaha good bump Lynch.

 

I saw "a 510 Christmas" with my name under it in the new posts and was like "wtf? I didnt post that?" and thought a mod might be screwing with me :lol: I had totally forgotten.

 

 

merry Christmas motherfuckas! :fu:

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