777irg
REGISTRATION BRIEF
WEST DALLAS UNDERGROUND
Updated:
June 25, 2016
Friday nights in Dallas always ran hot.
Payday had just hit. Bars spilled into the streets, music rattled apartment windows, and half the city chased something to do before sunrise.
Dallas PD had bigger problems than a few modified imports tearing through West Dallas after midnight.
Which made it the perfect night to race.
Every city had crews.
Some raced because they loved cars.
Some raced because they loved attention.
And some...
Well, some had no business behind a steering wheel.
You had:
Grease Monkeys: Mechanics who treated every race like a science experiment.
NASAs: Let them tell it, they were one sponsorship away from NASCAR.
Pretty in Pinks: Girls who knew just enough about cars to impress a driver-but never enough to beat one.
Brick Squad: Rough around the edges. Loud as hell. Mean behind the wheel.
Slick Ricks: Rich mofos with deeper pockets than common sense. Nobody knew if they raced for the thrill or because they were bored.
Kindo: Young. Hungry. Wet behind the ears. Still learning the streets don't hand out second chances.
Then there were the crews people actually respected.
The ones nobody wanted to see in their bracket.
The ones who could pull an engine apart before breakfast, rebuild a transmission after lunch, and still show up to a midnight race looking fresh as fuck.
There were dozens of crews scattered across Dallas...but when people talked about the underground, two names always came up.
If you wanted respect...
You beat one of them.
If you wanted to make history...
You beat both.
But before you learn their names you gotta know they layout
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