It looked like a huge, orange, white and blue hammerhead idling on the blistered, bubbling tarmac. An over-powered, over-geared, freight train of a machine. A former racecar, now reborn for one singular purpose, -getting the hell out of wherever it presently sat in one long, straight line of neck-snapping torque and mind-numbing speed.

It was the fastest car available, -and of that there was no doubt. But it was a hideously fickle device, - an evil, unpredictably uncontrollable machine that had already scared two of the best and bravest back to the old tyme religion. And there she waited outside an unmarked hanger at this tiny desert airport... a load of trouble in the trunk and the devil's daughter riding shotgun.

77 El Deora
Oblique Americana from the gene pool that brought you Calamity & Main