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I'm not a troublemaker like most people say I am. Can I help it that I'm troubled? Or that I like to relieve my anger issues behind the wheel? Of course I can't; it's just who I am. My name is Donnie Dixon, and I'm not your average ten-year-old anthro cheetah boy. I live in Firewall City, California; and believe me, it's quite a city. Even before I was born, back in the 1950's, the city was ruled by two different car gangs; The Hotrod Heroes, and The Cool-Car Cruisers. These gangs are still in existence today, and are pretty much the icons of Firewall City. The Heroes are all about speed; they strip cars down to lighten the load and fit them with the most powerful engines they can get their hands on. The cars that come out of the Heroes' garage may be a bit ugly and hard to handle, but they are damn fast. By contrast, the Cruisers do the opposite to their cars; they spice them up with chrome, expensive wax, soft seat covers, and furry dice. The Cruisers' cars are much more pleasurable to look at and drive, but the fact is that most of them just don't cut the mustard in terms of speed. Both gangs are convinced that their cars are the best and constantly slug it out against each other. After many fruitless years of trying to stop the fighting altogether, the city's police gave up. These days, they actually help the gangs act out on their animosities for each other by organizing and supervising races between them; allowing the gangs to have organized races helps to prevent violence between them. But enough about that, I'm guessing you'd like to know a little more about me.

My father was a Hotrod Hero, and my mother was a Cool-Car Cruiser. They met each other at a race in 2000. They found that they liked each other and started dating behind their gangs' backs. Then one night, Dad took Mom to a disco party, things sorta got outta hand (that's all Mom would tell me), and then next thing Mom knew, she was expecting me. Dad saw an opportunity to bring peace between the gangs, but Mom was convinced that a Hotrod Hero's baby born from a Cool-Car Cruiser would ignite a war that not even California's government could stop; a veritable War of the Wheels. So she left the Cool-Car Cruisers, and joined Dad on the Hotrod Heroes. The Heroes' leader, Willie Huynh welcomed Mom with open arms, and a few months later, I was born. But Mom was right; when the Cruisers found out that she had been carrying the baby of an enemy, the rivalry did heat up between the two gangs. Today... Dad isn't here anymore, and all I have left of him is an old car he was working on. After he died, I found it in his workshop and decided that I would finish it for him; it's probably what he would have wanted. After Mom and I finished the car, I named it, the Afterburner. The car is a real piece of craftsmanship. The body and grill are from a 1929 Hudson sedan, it's heart is an eight cylinder Chevy turbo block diesel engine, the wheels are whitewalls from a '44 Packard, and her horn came off of a '68 Mack truck. The car has no top, no hood, and a yellow paint job with red flames. By thoroughbred standards, she's an inbred. But frankly, I don't care; she's fast. Besides that, she's the best in the Hotrod Heroes' fleet of vehicles. Most hotrods aren't too good at goin' around the corners, but because the Afterburner is wider and more ground hugging than most hotrods, she's much more stable around the bends. Dad always said he wanted me to become a Hotrod Hero; and when I was eight, I did. I don't drive in any competition races just yet, but I will once I hone my driving skills a little more. Mom's alright with that; she just constantly warns me to be careful when I'm driving.

Well, anyway... It was a warm June day in Firewall City. I was waiting near the steps of the convention center near the center of the city. The sun was out just a bit, but gray clouds were rolling in from the east. That meant rain was on it's way. If you wanna ask me just what I was doing out in the open with a car that had no roof, I was waiting to pick up my best friend, Jason Harkins. He's ten years old like me, and he's a panther. Jason's taking some kind of robotics camp this summer at the convention center. Big waste of time in my opinion; but I would never say that to his face, or I would definitely lose him as a friend. Jason had enough problems as it was; his father was a sailor in the United States Navy, and he rarely ever saw a glimpse of him, except for a week or so at Christmas. Therefore, we both felt like we had only our moms there for us, and that is what made us such close friends. I checked my watch just as the digital counter hit 4:00. Finally! Robotics camp had let out. I hid behind the wall of the stairs; mainly because I didn't want all the other kids to see me and say things about me that weren't true. The other citizens of Firewall City didn't think very highly of either car gang; they spread rumors that we had fire in our hearts, and could even be servants of the devil. That was why I kept my distance from other kids at school, and Mom kept a low profile in public places. Eventually, Jason came down the stairs and around the corner to meet me. "Hi, Donnie," he said, "Ready to go?" "Yeah," I said, "How was camp today?" "It was alright," Jason answered, "But I'm glad we have the next two days off." "You're lucky." I said, "Mom and I try to keep a low profile, so I don't really get to socialize with anyone else other than her, you, and the other heroes." "I suppose that's what happens when you're part of a gang." he said. "Yeah..." I answered. Neither of us felt like saying anything else, so we made the walk across the street to the parking lot where the Afterburner was parked. This would be Jason's first time riding with me in her, so I was looking forward to this. "Wow!" he said when he saw her, "I can't believe I'm finally gonna get to ride with you in your hotrod!" "Yep!" I said, "Just throw your bag in the backseat and we'll go!" Jason threw his backpack into the foot well of the backseat and climbed into the shotgun seat. I then got into the driver's seat and prepared to start her up. "I see you've equipped her with seatbelts." said Jason as he buckled his racing harness up. "I know," I said, "We're required to have these kinds of seatbelts in our hotrods because of how fast they are." Once I was buckled in, I put on my goggles and lowered them down over my eyes. Then I handed Jason a pair and told him to put them on. I turned the ignition key and pressed the start button. The Afterburner came to life with a loud but smooth growl. "Whoa!" cried Jason as he lowered his goggles, "I never realized she was so loud!" "Just you wait 'till I open 'er up!" I shouted back. With that, I put her in gear, and drove out of the space to the edge of the parking lot. After checking for traffic, I pushed on the accelerator and drove out onto the street.

If you're thinking I'm a little young to be driving a hotrod on the street, you're absolutely right. But Firewall City had actually issued a great law on the matter. It states that the children of members of the Hotrod Heroes and the Cool-Car Cruisers are eligible for driving training at age seven. The reason for this being since they're going to be racing in the future, it's best for them to start training at an early age; the earlier they start, the more practice they get, and the better they become. Me? I'm an excellent driver. But today it didn't really matter how good a driver I was; because I was hemmed in by the inner city traffic. As we waited at a red light Jason glanced nervously at the sky. "Well..." he said, "We might not get home for a bit, but if you hurry, we still might beat the rain." I thought for a moment; there was no way we were going to make it home in time at this rate. So when the light turned green, I made a left turn instead of going right. "Uh... Donnie," said Jason, "What are you doing? Our neighborhood is to the west." "I know," I said, "But we'll never get home before the rain in this traffic. Don't worry, buddy; I know a shortcut." "Oh, a shortcut?" he asked. "Yeah," I answered, "We can use the river. It runs all the way to the beach. And it is currently..." I checked my watch, "Four-fifteen... so the tide should be out; and that'll give us a clear run to our neighborhood!" "Well..." said Jason, "You're the hotrod driver; I trust you." "Great!" I said. The river, like many others in Californian cities, is basically a huge, wide concrete trench. It allows great water flow with virtually no erosion; but even better, it makes the perfect racetrack. The city officials and law enforcement have allowed the Hotrod Heroes and the Cool-Car Cruisers to use the river as their most frequent battleground because it's better than letting them loose in the streets. Because it was June, the riverbed was currently dry with a few large puddles of water in it. But that wouldn't last long with the rain coming in; so once we got in there we would have to fly. Jason was in for a wild ride.

In another few minutes we reached the access road that lead to the river. Jason looked at me and said, "You sure this is a good idea?" "Absolutely!" I said, "The Hotrod Heroes use this place all the time; and it's great fun." We were almost to the riverbed, so I revved the engine and said, "Hang on, Jason! Time to kick in the Afterburner!!" As we hit the level ground, I opened the taps and boy did she respond. "GRUM-GRUM-BRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUM!!!" was the sweet sound of eight cylinders burning diesel. "Oh YEAH!!" I shouted. Jason didn't say anything; he must not have known what he was in for. We quickly passed fifty miles an hour as we accelerated down the concrete racetrack. In a matter of seconds, we passed the seventy mile an hour mark and were still going strong. I glanced over at Jason; the look on his face was a mix of astonishment, pleasure, and sheer terror. Then I looked forward and saw a huge puddle in the middle of the river. Feeling naughty, I steered for it and splashed right into it! "AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!" screamed Jason as the car hydroplaned over the puddle and the splash nearly got him. I just laughed; he had never felt what it was like to be driving this fast, so I couldn't expect him to like it right away. I looked up at a bridge and saw a cop car and two policemen standing next to it. I blew the horn and waved; and they just gave a friendly wave back as we rocketed under the bridge. "ISN'T THIS GREAT!?!" I asked Jason. "WE JUST WENT BY TWO COPS DOING NINTEY MILES AN HOUR!!!" he screamed back, "THIS IS INSANE!!!" "I KNOW!!" I shouted, "THIS_IS DRIVING!!!" As we rounded the bend, the sound of the _Afterburner's engine was echoing through the river. I glanced at the speedometer, and saw that the needle was as far as it would go! "JASON!!" I yelled, "LOOK AT THAT!!!" He glanced at the speedometer and replied, "WE'RE TRAVELING AT _ONE HUNDRED MILES AN HOUR_DOWN A CONCRETE RIVERBED, AND ALL TO GET HOME BEFORE THE RAIN!!! COULD THIS POSSIBLY GET ANY CRAZIER!?!" Actually... it could; because ahead of us was the draining point that led to the beach and then the open ocean. "DONNIE!!!" screamed Jason, "ARE YOU NUTS!?! WE'RE GONNA CRASH!!!" "OH NO WE'RE NOT!!!" I said. With that, I guided the _Afterburner_up the bank on the left, trying to bleed off speed before we had to make a ninety degree right turn onto the substance all good hotrodders fear, sand. As hotrods only have two wheel drive, low frames, and smooth tires, it's much easier for them to get bogged down in the sand. But I hoped that the sheer momentum I had built up and the fast spinning back wheels would be enough to take us as far up as our neighborhood.

When I thought I had the right angle, I cranked the wheel right and brought her down the bank heading for the sand. "THIS IS GONNA BE CLOSE!!" I yelled. The Afterburner slid smoothly onto the sand and kicked up a real sandstorm as she went. I held the throttle wide open and prayed that we wouldn't bog down. Sure enough, I had picked a perfect line and we were still going. But as we blasted up the beach, our speed was decreasing every second. Eighty... Seventy... Sixty... Fifty... Forty... Finally I saw the ramp used by dune buggies to get from the sand to the asphalt of our suburban neighborhood. I made a right turn and guided the _Afterburner_in. She hit the ramp at about thirty miles an hour and cruised smoothly up onto the pavement where we stopped. "WOO-HOO!!!" I yelled, "Was that insane or what!?!" Jason looked shell shocked for a moment, but then he broke out into a huge smile and started laughing. "AWESOME!!" he said, "That was the best ride ever!" "Yeah!" I said, "How often do you get to go one hundred miles an hour coming home from camp!?" "Not very often!" he admitted. Then I made the left turn onto our street and pulled up in front of Jason's house. Jason took off his goggles and unbuckled his harness. "Donnie..." he said, "I... I cannot help myself anymore. I friggin' love this car!" "Yep!" I said, "Dad would be so proud..." "He is, Donnie," said Jason as he got out and grabbed his bag from the backseat, "I have no doubt that he is! Anyway, thanks for drivin'! Bye!" "Bye!" I said as he ran up the walk to his front door. Once he had gone inside, I started off for the end of the street where my house was.

The dark clouds were very close to us now as I drove up the driveway. I backed the Afterburner into the garage and shut off the motor. I then climbed out, shook myself off, and went outside so I could close up the garage. Then the rain started to fall. I made the dash from the driveway to the front door and opened it with the house key on my key ring. Finally I was inside; and just in time, the rain was really coming down now. "Mom!" I called, "I'm home!" Mom came into the front hall and said, "Nice to see you got in before the rain, Donnie. How was driving with Jason?" "He loved it!" I answered, "He says he really loves the car!" "Well, what's not to love about it!?" said Mom, laughing. "Looks like we won't be doing any outdoor activities for a while." I said, "Can we watch a movie, Mom?" "Sure." she said, "I picked up some sugar cookies and root beer while I was out at the supermarket, so we should be all set for this rainy day." "Thanks, Mom." I said, "You're the best." "Thank you, sweetie..." she said as she came over and hugged me. Most boys would be embarrassed at being hugged by their moms and called "Sweetie." But I'm not; I'm totally fine with it because I love her, and I want to make sure that she's happy. A half hour later, we were sitting on the couch, watching a hilarious comedy movie. We were eating sugar cookies, drinking root beer, and laughing every few minutes. I've learned to treasure these kinds of moments; because during them, we're just a mom and her son. We don't have worry about our stance in the War of the Wheels. We're not Hotrod Heroes; we're just... a family.

The Living End...