Title: F1 AIE Chapter 1 Author: Serrated Pastebin link: http://pastebin.com/XzeieStK First Edit: Friday 13th of April 2012 06:50:17 AM CDT Last Edit: Last edit on: Monday 18th of January 2016 10:12:08 AM CDT -Authors note- The first few chapters of this story were written pre AiE thread 100. The quality improves later on.   *As of November 11th, 2015. New chapters have been added, continuing the story of F1 Anon.   ====         >The anticipation, >The adrenaline, >That’s what you feel staring at those start lights hanging above the track. >At any moment, those lights will signal the start of the United States Grand Prix >It’s November, and you’ve been racing in Formula One all this season. >But the feeling never changes; this is what you live for. >The speed >The power >The gravitational forces pulling on you at every turn >It never gets old. >Sitting in the car, qualified 4th, you start thinking to yourself. >You’re sitting in a marvel of human engineering >0 to 100 kph in 1.7 seconds >Oh god, that feeling of immense acceleration >You couldn’t wait for it. >Aerodynamics that make it seem like you’re driving on a rail >…until you punch the throttle too hard coming out of a turn. >Make sure not to do that today.   >Looking around, you observe the drivers beside and in front of you on the grid. >Red Bull got another one-two start. Fucking Vettel >Webber is alright in your book, but Seb just gets on your fucking nerves. >You’d love to sacrifice your front wing on his tire to blow it out, make it look like an accident. >Nah, that’s just childish. >You have a race to win >And going in the pits on lap 2 to get a new front wing would shatter that chance. >You look to the car beside you, an exact copy of the car you’re driving. >Looks like you and your teammate are starting 3rd and 4th. >How he got a faster lap time than you in qualifying you’ll never know. >You then look at the rear wing of his car and chuckle to yourself. >You two, being the bronies you are, placed small decals of your favorite p0nies’ cutie marks on each side of your rear wings. >The top corner of his wing sporting three small diamonds, top corner of your wing showing off a very badass looking greyscale thunderbolt. >They’re small enough so the television cameras can’t catch them that well. but big enough to see if you know where to look. >Other drivers have noticed before, chastised you for it, but you couldn’t seem to find a fuck to give.   >In your mirrors, you notice an impressive sight. >Ferrari, McLaren, and Mercedes cars are situated behind you. >How your team, brand new to Formula 1 in 2012, is faster than Ferrari, McLaren, and sometimes Red Bull, still baffles everyone who follows the sport. >Is it the cutie mark decals? >Yeah, it’s not the hours upon hours of car designing, wind tunnel tests, and simulator time. >It’s the fucking p0ny stickers. >Speaking of car design, your team didn’t go the way of the platypus like the majority of the teams did. >Thank fuck. >Fucking duckbill nosed F1 cars. >Yours and McLarens cars are the only ones on the grid that look normal. >Suddenly, red light. >Oh shit here we go. >The inaugural Grand Prix at the Circuit of the Americas is about to begin >little do you know, you’re not even going to complete one lap.   >700+ HP V8 engines start revving up. >You rev yours a few times, shuddering at the feeling of such insane power. >and it’s all yours to unleash when the lights go off. >The second of five lights light up >The third >Fourth >Your teammate gives you a thumbs up >You return the gesture >All five lights are blazing >You rev close to the red line, getting ready to let go of the clutch >As does everyone else as the entire grid screams with power. >A few more agonizing seconds, and the lights go off. >You blast forward >Towards a stalled out Webber “SHIT”   >Lightning quick reflexes take over your arms and you successfully swerve past the immobile Red Bull machine >Barely missing the right rear tire by centimeters >No one else hit him either, lucky guy. >Like the pro racer you are, that little predicament is instantly forgotten as you focus on the first turn ahead of you. >You speed ahead and… ah there it is, that feeling of acceleration you are so in love with. >No woman could please you like this car could. >First turn coming up an… Holy shit, your teammate got inside of Vettel! >Go you glorious bastard go! >He brakes late, takes the turn smoothly, and guns it out of the corner in a wide arc that almost cuts Seb off into the grass. >You see this coming out of the corner. >“I bet he didn’t like that.” >You start to catch up to the two cars in front of you as you navigate the esses with precision. >All of a sudden, a large piece of front wing emblazoned with “Red Bull” fly’s past your helmet.   >No fucking way… >They both go off the racing surface, your teammate spinning dramatically with a blown right rear tire and Vettel with insane under steer. >That fucking twat took out your teammate in the same exact way you thought that you would take him out just before the race started! >You’re so enraged that you don’t realize that the lead has been handed to you on a silver platter. >That is until you reach the turn leading to the longest straight on the circuit. >Holy fuck you’re leading the race “Holy fuck I’m leading the race” >That’s going to make this long straight so much more amazing >Out of the corner, ease on the throttle, and hold on! >The engine sings its powerful song as you shift though the gears. >This feeling. >This fucking feeling right here. >It’s so glorious you almost hate the corner coming up for taking the feeling away from you. >But you’ll be back here at least 50 more times, so it’s not that bad. >So you think…   >Here comes your braking point >Smoothly press th… wait… FUCK… >You’re not stopping, your brakes have gone out… >”SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT” >Your throttle seems to be stuck too… >”AW FUCK ME!” >You’re hoping to god that the gravel runoff area will slow you down enough to where your neck doesn’t snap when you hit the wall. >HAHA LOL NO, don’t you remember? This is a Hermann Tilke designed track! This runoff area is solid asphalt! >Fucking Tilke… >Speeding towards the wall you don’t notice that the cutie mark decal you placed is starting to… glow? >Yeah you’re too focused on imminent death speeding at you at over 200 mph. >Fuck, this is it then huh? >You brace yourself, hoping that all the safety features in the car at least allow you to live. >You can kiss your legs goodbye if you do live though. >This is gonna fucking hurt >Just then, the decal glows intensely >just before you hit the wall, an outside force completely envelopes your car >And in an instant you disappear, machine and all, off the face of this planet.