My Buddy's Car

The Truck

I picked up Mike's Mustang with little joy and called Wesley and Jackson to come to my great grandma's house. She had an old 77 ford pickup and a Ford GT engine is just the tuneup it needs. 200 miles an hour easy. This truck was my great grandpa's before he died and my grandma said it was mine if I fixed it. We had the engines swapped in a jiffy and the beast roared to life. She was beautiful because she was unassuming, don't trust the rust as they say, And as I would find out later because she was steel. I took the truck out for a spin Wes was rideing shotgun and Jackson was following in his 05 F150. I floored the pickup and watched Jackson shrink into the distance. Wes was drunk with the horsepower and raw acceleration that this truck put out he didn't notice his car riding along next to us I hit the breaks but the hellish Z car anticipated the maneuver and had spun around heading back to the place Wes had left it. He never new and he would think I was crazy to say it moved.