A synopsis of this evening's events:

I put the "350" jets in the plate, installed a fresh bottle that was in the house and turned on the bottle heater. I figured once I got to the little gas station on the North end of town the bottle would be a perfect 93°. I twist the key and rumble out of the stuffy garage and into the cooler night air. All vitals look good and it's rumbling along next to the Kia and Hyundai appliance cars in traffic. I get to Caseys, pop the hood and proceed to put $1.16 worth of 93 octane gas in the tiny quart tank. I pop the trunk, check the bottle temp with the infrared gun and it's right where it should be at 93°. I crack the bottle and slowly open it. As I'm leaving I notice the small town city cop headed East out of town. Perfect! I'm headed in the opposite direction. I click on the arming switch in the ash tray and turn on the electric fuel pump. The red light from the pump switch lights up the already red interior with even more evil red glow! I go about a mile to a patch of road that is concrete. I pull onto the road and decide not to do a burnout in order to minimize noise and avoid any nosy neighbors. I pull it into 1st and pull more timing than normal to be safe. I do a 30 mph roll, hit the throttle and button! She squirts forward clawing for traction and kicks sideways ever so slightly....then GRABS and we are OFF! First gear is the blink of an eye, jam the shifter into 2nd and the hood is still in it's skward trajectory. 3rd gets clicked and glancing down I notice the 100mph speedo is past its usefulness! I let off the button and then the throttle and lay into the brakes. As it comes back down to pedestrian speeds, I start shutting everything off. Fuel pump and arm switch get flipped and the timing gets put back to 34° total. Still a little adrenalized, I crack a smile. She's good to go and zero issues. I take it home, purge the bottle, install a fresh one and take the heater batteries in to charge them. Mission accomplished!

The jug is rowdy, folks!