Imagine, for a moment, that you’re driving on a two-lane highway. You’re headed westbound, and it’s about an hour before sunset, so the sun is at that horrible, blinding spot just under the reach of your car’s sun visor. There are five cars in front of you, and in front of those cars, there’s a semi-truck pulling a double trailer full of tomatoes, driving a steady 50 miles per hour.

Now, the speed limit is 65 miles per hour, but here you are, way back behind the semi, going about 30 mph, maybe 35 at the most. The tomato truck isn’t pulling aside to let the cars behind it pass, and none of the cars in front of you are attempting to pass the tomato truck because there’s too much oncoming traffic.

What do you do?

Well, if you’re a big fucking pussy, driving some puss car, you just stay in line, way back behind the tomato truck and hope that you’ll get where you’re going someday. Baah, baah, sheep.

It was so powerful, the whole car was already shaking and rattling and emitting blue exhaust, just surging with power.

But, if you’re a badass with a lime green, 1994 Dodge Neon, you pass all those stupid fucking pussies and that dickhole tomato truck like it ain’t no thang.

Now, I don’t know if all ’94 lime green Dodge Neon drivers are as skillful and brave as the one that almost killed a bunch of people on the highway the other day, but I hope they are. That guy had guts!

Let me back up for a minute though and set the stage.

There I was, driving to the coast with my kids, stuck behind a bunch of cars and a double trailer of tomatoes. Rats! Now it was going to take us longer to get to the coast than I’d planned! Deep down in my gut, I knew I should speed up, cross the solid double line into oncoming traffic, squint my eyes almost completely shut to block the sun, and pass as many of the cars in front of me as I could before narrowly avoiding a head on collision. But, shamefully, I was too chicken.

Here I am, a dad, with my kids right there in the car, and this is the kind of cowardly example I’m setting for them. I should have done it, I was going to do it, but… I don’t know. I don’t have a good excuse. I was just scared that we’d die or something. I know, it’s stupid. I’m stupid sometimes.

Anyway, we’re driving along, my kids in the back, probably feeling a little embarrassed about what a wuss their dad is, when up behind me comes that Neon I’ve been telling you about. When you think of a 1994 Dodge Neon, the first word that comes to mind is probably “raw power,” right? Well, this particular Neon was more powerful than the ones you’ve probably seen before. It was so powerful, the whole car was already shaking and rattling and emitting blue exhaust, just surging with power, and it was only going about 40 miles an hour!

As the driver pulled up real close behind me, I could see the paint job on the hood was all faded and peely; there were even some spots where the paint had been stripped down to the metal. Of course, I knew what that meant. “Speed burn,” I thought to myself. “Woah mama! Now that is a fast car.”

As if to prove me right, the Neon immediately crossed the solid double line and sped around my car. As he passed me, I noticed that his passenger side, from the back door all the way to the back panel by the tail light, was crumpled and crushed in. “That must be an aerodynamic wind channel,” I thought to myself, “Pretty sweet!”

And, as he made his way further ahead of me, I saw that the tire on the back, passenger side was much smaller than the other tires on his car. “Holy shit!” I thought, “he has a special racing wheel too?!”

And once he was completely ahead of me, I saw that his back bumper had been removed. “Smart,” I thought, “no wind resistance back there!”

But don’t let me give you the idea that this car was just built for speed, because that just wasn’t the case. For a bit of flair, his trunk lid was white, instead of green like the rest of his car. I could not believe it! His entire fucking car was custom!

The next few minutes were a ballet of zigs and zags in and out of lanes, the Neon’s driver almost crashing and killing himself and the people in other cars, but somehow managing not to. Just when you thought the guy in the Neon wouldn’t dare to go into oncoming traffic again… he would dare to! Just when you thought he couldn’t get any closer to the cars coming at him… he would get closer before swerving back into his own lane! He finally passed that tomato truck, and was on his way to who knows what/where.

I don’t know what he had to do, but I’m sure it was very important. I don’t know what time he had to get there, but I know it had to be soon. And I don’t know who he was, but I know he was no slouch; he was driving a fucking Neon. Your typical Joe doesn’t just go get a lime green ‘94 Dodge Neon. You have to have at least $450 to get one.

But even if you do scrape that kind of cash together, the more important question remains: Will you drive your 1994 lime green Dodge Neon the way it’s meant to be driven?

If you didn’t shout out “FUCK YEAH!” when I asked that question, then save your cash. There are already too many pussies on the road.