boosteds14
01-03-2003, 12:29 PM
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all thru the roost,
There was no turbo whine; there was simply no boost
I'd poked, and I'd prodded, and experienced pain,
But my diagnosing was just all in vain.
"This turbo is garbage - it won't @#$%@ spin!"
So I kicked it, and cursed, and turned to head in,
When up on the garage roof I heard such a crash,
To the pry bar in the corner I made a mad dash.
"If someone's on my roof they best be retreating!"
And outside I went to deliver the beating,
When what to my bloodshot eyes should appear,
But a trick KA-T towed by pumped-up reindeer!
They were polished, and ported, and snorting with need,
And attached to them all were dual T3's!
And behind the Sparco wheel was a driver so slick,
I knew for certain that it must be St. Nick.
He hopped from his ride and went to the back,
And from under the hatch he pulled out a sack.
Then he dropped to the ground with such a loud clunk,
I knew that his sack must be filled with car junk!
"I see that your turbo has decided to die,
And that it's death has near made you cry.
"A NEW turbo for you is the answer I see."
And out of his sack he pulled a big T04E!
I d**n near plum fainted as he gave it to me;
It was better than a hit of pure LSD.
"But wait, there's more - you'll need to look good."
And out came new wheels and a sweet carbon hood.
I said, "This is great!" as I looked at each one,
But Santa, well, he was not quite yet done.
"An FMIC is needed to stay cool,
And to put this stuff on you need some air tools."
He pulled it all out; laid it all at my feet,
Then jumped back to his ride without missing a beat.
"I've got to be off, so install that with care,"
Then he launched off the garage back into the air.
And I heard him exclaim over his turbos so shrill,
"See ya next year at the track - where some V8's we'll kill!"
"I watched him flyoff towards the end of the block,
but the car never made it, because of crank walk."
There was no turbo whine; there was simply no boost
I'd poked, and I'd prodded, and experienced pain,
But my diagnosing was just all in vain.
"This turbo is garbage - it won't @#$%@ spin!"
So I kicked it, and cursed, and turned to head in,
When up on the garage roof I heard such a crash,
To the pry bar in the corner I made a mad dash.
"If someone's on my roof they best be retreating!"
And outside I went to deliver the beating,
When what to my bloodshot eyes should appear,
But a trick KA-T towed by pumped-up reindeer!
They were polished, and ported, and snorting with need,
And attached to them all were dual T3's!
And behind the Sparco wheel was a driver so slick,
I knew for certain that it must be St. Nick.
He hopped from his ride and went to the back,
And from under the hatch he pulled out a sack.
Then he dropped to the ground with such a loud clunk,
I knew that his sack must be filled with car junk!
"I see that your turbo has decided to die,
And that it's death has near made you cry.
"A NEW turbo for you is the answer I see."
And out of his sack he pulled a big T04E!
I d**n near plum fainted as he gave it to me;
It was better than a hit of pure LSD.
"But wait, there's more - you'll need to look good."
And out came new wheels and a sweet carbon hood.
I said, "This is great!" as I looked at each one,
But Santa, well, he was not quite yet done.
"An FMIC is needed to stay cool,
And to put this stuff on you need some air tools."
He pulled it all out; laid it all at my feet,
Then jumped back to his ride without missing a beat.
"I've got to be off, so install that with care,"
Then he launched off the garage back into the air.
And I heard him exclaim over his turbos so shrill,
"See ya next year at the track - where some V8's we'll kill!"
"I watched him flyoff towards the end of the block,
but the car never made it, because of crank walk."