BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 306
The hundred was still on my dashboard. He couldn‟t even lean forward in the
seat to grab it, my car‟s takeoff was so powerful. The G forces kept him pinned to the
seat back. After that, I even believed myself, and so did my pals. So, tonight, I had no
worry about blowing this asshole‟s doors off. We finished playing pool, and I made him
pay me before we went out back. I told Jack and his crew I was leaving and they all said
good-bye.
When we were in the parking lot, the black guy saw my car wasn‟t stock, as he‟d
thought. He began hedging, and finally insisted I start it up so he could hear it run.
I think I explained, the car was now a 412 cubic inch engine putting out 540
horsepower. It came from the factory with 325 horses, so it was a tad improved. My
Chevelle also had to idle at 1,500 rpm to avoid stalling, and the only exhaust off the
headers was a pair of Thrush mufflers. The car was very loud.
The black guy, and his three buddies, (did I mention there were four of them and I
was all alone?), now called off the race. Oh, and the bet.
Half shitfaced by that point, I was now even more pissed at him than I was before.
Unfortunately, I told him so, including my opinion of his sorry black ass and his car.
Somewhere in my tirade, I crossed a line I shouldn‟t‟ve crossed. For reasons I can only
guess at, (like all the nasty things I just said), he was pissed. Very pissed.
He decided to exact revenge, but wasn‟t so blind pissed as to take me on all by
himself. No, all three friends were gonna join in.
Hang on, boys and girls, it gets worse. All four had switchblades.
In my opinion. That‟s worse. A whole lot worse.
Then it got even more severe. The mouthy black guy, the one I‟d had all this
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