By the time we had all our cars and stuff loaded up for the long trip back to reality, Monte and the Schroeders had coaxed a 6.96-209 blast from the blue and white 66 Vette, the little black GLH had went 9.99, and the Gremlin was in the burnout box again.
Boone and I were watching from the fence as James checked the slick pressure.
"Why did he decide to make a time run?" I shrugged at Boone.
"The timing had slipped all the way back to eight, so he bumped it up to twelve, where he thought it was all along, and said he just had to know!"
It packed the tires, but drove out of the groove on landing, and he had to pedal it once, but the 440 sounded sweet, as the scoreboard lit up with a 9.10-149.6.

"Ok, that should put a bow on Drag Week 2015, now we can roll out of here!" I slapped Boone on the back.
"I think we have to take Rachael and Opal somewhere to celebrate their birthdays...John has a Mexican place picked out." Boone explained.
"Just as long as someone else leads, and I don't have to follow line by line instructions, I'm good with that!