Image by Bernd Hildebrandt from Pixabay and edited using Canva
"It's done!!!!" I scream out loud in joy, still holding my spanner wearing greased stained overalls sporting the name MILES COFFEE & CARS. I watched the engine run, moving the propeller steadily purring softly.
I increased the output and the propeller moved even faster, the individual blades practically indistinguishable now, just a slight blur of speed is seen with the naked eye.
"Current speed?" I heard a voice ask.
I turned around to take a look at her. My sponsor, cheerleader and all time partner, Mrs Miles.
"At the time of recording, we're going at almost 300 km/hr" I replied to her, no amount of acting could hold the joy and excitement in my voice.
"Y'see, I know you could do it." She says, giving me a pat on the back.
"300 km/hr from an engine running on coffee. I married a fluffing genius." She screams.
"Well that's only the speed on the propeller, I still have to put it in a car and see how it goes." I say, skeptical.
She notices my lack of excitement and comes to my aid as always.
"Don't worry babe, I'm sure it will still go fast. Like I was sure you would be able to make this when you announced it in the pub 5 years ago." She said laughing.
I was forced to laugh too, it was a bloody great performance made by me.
I was high off more than a few bottles of rum and was practically spewing curses like a sailor. Then I got into some sort of argument about my second love, coffee.
This dude with a hat that looked big enough to be a TV dish, sat down and called coffee a drink for ninnies.
It was audacious for me. Normally I would ignore such talk from uncultured folks but not when I had so much rum in me.
I walked straight up to this man and gave him the best talking down to I had given anyone. He didn't go down easily though.
"What can coffee do?" This man loudly asked no one in particular
"It can do bloody way more than your fucking beer can." I spit back at him. Readying myself for a good old fashioned bar fight, although he wasn't in for the fight.
"Oh really?" He asked snickering.
"So can coffee move a car?" He asked
"Huh?" I replied, unsure whether it was the alcohol or I just didn't hear him correctly.
"Beer can move people and you claim coffee can do more." "So can coffee move a car?"
It was a challenge and no way I would back up from a challenge, my eye caught the flyer on the wall.
"Can it?" The dude said again, laughing.
"You're damn right it can." I screamed back at him.
I then climbed up the nearest table I saw and yelled at the top of my voice.
"Infact, coffee can do way more than that. On the 48th Annual Rally, a car whose engine is running entirely on coffee would win." I said, opening my arms wide like a commentator.
"That's my bet man. Bookers, best you get on the winning slip."
Next thing I remember, I was on the bed with my wife laughing hard watching the video of my proclamation made by the bartender.
Normally, I wouldn't be held hostage by a promise made under the influence of rum, but the bartender kept the video, hence I'll keep my promise.
I put the engine inside the car I had built.
A single seater, light, aluminium coated remake of the 1962 Lotus Elan, built for its speed, not for looks or comfortability.
I turned on the ignition and put it on drive. It was heavenly, moving from 0-99 km/hr in under 3 seconds.
The engine held on well, moving around, sustaining through gallops, sudden turns and even drifts.
I had checked everything and got ready for the secret weapon.
Uncapping a button from my stereo, I pressed it, and the car jumped in speed, from its former stable speed of 255 km/hr to 400 in less than 2 seconds.
The car wheels whined as it tried to contain the sudden jump in speed.
Thankfully the boost was ending, slowing down from the 400 to 300 and then to its normal speed of 255.
Out of the car, my legs were weak. I could still hear my heart beating and the adrenaline pumping in my body.
"That was great." My wife said, coming down to the field where I was testing the car.
"What was that sudden boost near the end?" She asked, eyes wide.
"It's just a secret weapon. Hopefully I won't need to use it, the car may not be able to take it."
"I don't think you'll need secret weapons," she said, reassuring me."
"Now come inside to rest, it's 7 hours to the race and you need to be in tiptop shape."
It was the day of the race. And boy was I nervous.
I split the coffee three times while filling the tank, then my wife had to put me in a time out before I water all the lawn with coffee.
I took a warm cup to try and calm my nerves before I drove on to the rally tracks.
There were a whole lot of cars and a whole lot of paparazzi, way too much and they were all taking pictures of me, showing me in all my glory as I was red, embarrassed and practically uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry", Mrs Miles came running towards me. "Apparently word got out that the coffee car promised 5 years ago was ready so everyone wanted a good glimpse of it."
"No matter", I tell her, smiling as the cup of Coffee I took earlier was finally working on my nerves.
"I only came here to win, I don't care about whoever or how many watches. I came here to prove coffee's supremacy." I say boldly.
Immediately I heard the snaps of the camera and the scribbles of pen and paper as journalists took that down.
"Is the fill station ready?" I asked her, getting ready to drive to my spot on the track.
"It is, with three piping hot barrels ready for you anytime." She says happily, giving a little salute too.
I laugh at the gesture. "Thanks love", I say before driving to my spot as number 15 on the track.
"A car running on coffee, huh?" I looked at my competition number 14 in his own car.
"Is this race some kind of joke to you?" He asks again.
"Just try not to choke on the sweet scented gas", I replied to him which caused some of the other numbers to laugh.
"You're dead, coffee dude." He said to me and immediately the race started.
I put my car on gear, bursting ahead of everyone, the crowd cheered as I zoomed off.
The race was of 14 laps and I was far ahead of lap 1, the only cars catching my eye were cars 12, 21, 9 and 14.
They were steadily gaining on me, with number 14 moving with an intent I was sure wasn't directed at winning the race.
In a blast I had finished the first lap, and I moved even further, keeping a steady speed of 255 km/hr while tearing the asphalt.
I weaved through other cars, trying to put as much distance between 14 and myself as possible, but he was after me like a dog to a squirrel.
The game of chase continued through to lap 7, us zooming ahead of other racers, it seemed we were in a race of our own, and I had come to the conclusion that if this continued, he would win.
I drove into my filling station as I took a refill and a change of tires.
I saw my car on the screen as the camera zoomed in on the coffee being poured into the tank.
I took a cup and poured a bit for myself from the hose going into the tank.
"What're you going to do about him?"
My wife asked me about racer number 14.
He was glaring menacingly at me, and I simply smiled back.
"I dunno at the moment." I replied to my wife.
"I guess it's to just keep him off my tail for the last laps."
"Please be safe babe." She said then kissed me.
I went back into the tracks, re-energized and with a full tank, I zoomed off again.
Like clockwork, I saw Number 14 trying to keep up with me too.
I turned around and increased my speed. Although my car was faster than his, he had more skills, the tight turns and easy drifting kept him always close.
It was the ending of the 12th lap and he managed to touch my back.
It was a simple hit that could easily have been a fatal accident had my hand not been firmly on the wheels.
I turned immediately and zoomed off, he was a bit later on the turn yet he made it.
His earlier hit had damaged my light metal structure and my speed had dropped, he caught up quickly.
At the end of the 13th lap, we were level.
The crowd roared wildly at this, the coffee car now has some competition.
The 14th lap seemed to be the longest, with number 14, inching ahead of me.
I knew he would win if I didn't use it, so I bided my time.
At the last turn before a straight, he was well ahead of me.
That's when I used the boost, the coffee fuels boiled at an incredible pressure, channeling the heat trying to escape in one direction, the boosters ignited.
Everything became a blur as my speed jumped from 300 km/hr to a flash like 500 km/hr.
The boost took only 2 seconds to implement and lasted for only 3 seconds, but that was enough, I simply flew through the finish line.
At first nobody reacted, everyone was shocked, it's not until my car wheeled to a stop did the audience start clapping. The 48th edition of the rally was over
Coffee had won.
Well I wrote this post for the previous #spillthebeans contest but I couldn't reduce the story to less than 1k words😂.
It was a fun write-up for me considering the fact that I had just finished writing another story a few hours ago.
So since I couldn't officially enter the contest I decided to post it after😗, hoping to enter this new one too😃☕
