Yngwie And My Ford F-150

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I am a fan of only two things in the world: shred metal music and my Ford F-150. In the  evenings you can find me in some dive, watching some metal act and headbanging with my waist long blonde hair. During the day, I’ll be found in my garage working on MetalBeast (my truck), adding performance parts and trying to make her look as menacing as possible. Now before you go stereotyping me, keep in mind I have friends from all walks of life. And among these friends are many a hip hop fan. For example, my good buddy Mike swears by the genre and always tries to ‘convert’ me. One time he gave me a stack of rap CDs to listen to and he asked me what I thought. “Not bad,” I said. “But it would be a lot better with some crunchy guitars and a few solos.”Mike sighed.“You have to see a hip hop concert live,” he said. “Only then will you realize the power of the form. MC Thuggy Tim is having a show tonight and you should really give it a chance.”Now, I have an open mind and so I agreed to attend. Later that night, me and MetalBeast drove over to Mike’s house. When he saw me he looked scandalized. “What are you wearing?” he shrieked.I looked down at my holey jeans and black t shirt.“Just the usual. What’s the big deal?”“You won’t fit in at a hip hop concert, and that’s a very big deal. I’ll get you some real clothes.”After Mike was through with me, I could barely recognize myself. I wore a large baseball cap at an odd angle, a shirt which came down to my knees and the ‘icing’ on the cake—ropes of faux diamonds, or ‘bling’ as it is known in the rap lexicon.But what was even worse was that Mike insisted on (shudder) pimping out MetalBeast! He added hideous spinning rims, a hydraulic bounce apparatus, and a sound system that had only a bass knob. How did he add all these to the truck so quickly? I don’t really know. But anyways, when we arrived at the concert, we fit right in. Everyone was swaggering, posing, and throwing gang signs furiously. Suddenly, I overheard a muscled fan talking to his friend. “Yeah, yeah,” he was saying, “Thuggy Tim’s blowin’ up, fo shizzle.”“The words you just said,” I asked him innocently, “What do they mean?” “They mean,” he said, looking me up and down, “That Thuggy Tim’s the man. The greatest musician who ever lived.”“Better than Yngwie?” I scoffed, “I highly doubt that.”“Yngwie?” the man questioned “What planet is that mofo from?”Something inside me snapped. I leapt on the thug, screaming and karate chopping. Unfortunately, the guy’s homies saw what was happening and rushed to his aid. A huge brawl broke out and Mike and I had to run for our lives. We made it into MetalBeast’s cab and tried to start the engine.“Come on girl” I whispered. “Do it for Yngwie.”The engine roared and we were off as bullets ricocheted off the truck.

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It was a close shave, but we made it out alive. MetalBeast surely deserves a reward. I’m thinking of getting her either some Lloyd Floor Mats or Lloyd Carpet Floor Mats and one of those Lloyd Carpet Cargo Liners.