And There Was Silence in the House of Judgment.

The day of reckoning is upon us and Team I Wanna Roc awaits their fate to be decided. Does their righteous campaign against all that is Huey Newis and The Lose continue or will the judges at 24 Hours of LeMons deny them their destiny? Only time will tell. In the mean time they offer their acceptance letter for all to behold and leave no doubt lingering about their rightful claim to race at Reno-Fernley.

What two things gets a man's blood pumping and adrenaline coursing through his veins? The obvious, albeit wrong, answers are moderate exercise and a hypodermic needle plunged into your heart a la Nicolas Cage in “The Rock”. Let's be honest though, who in their right minds would want to exercise when God so fittingly gave us the V-8 engine? And have you seen a hypodermic needle?! Actually that is awesomely brutal so we'll keep that one. The correct answers to the question are as follows: white knuckling around a track in an automobile with a less-than-stellar record for fatalities stemming from seat belt failures and heavy metal.

Now hold on there Poindexter, we're not talking chemistry or alchemy here. What we are talking about is the trifecta of speed, power, and precision; power cords and high levels of distortion; devil horns and air guitars. In the immortal words of Twisted Sister's frontman Dee Snider, “If it ain't metal, it's crap!” And we can think of no place better to showcase the flawless blending of a veritable vehicular mosh pit with shredding guitar solos than 24 Hours of LeMons. Just like you, we fight our battles with power and steel. We fight not for ideology or money, rather we test our mettle with metal – metal that's real. It is what makes us unique, different; it's what makes us Brothers of Metal. When others have succumbed to the evils of this world – easy listening, uninspired, pretentious, yuppie music – there need to be people who are still willing to believe in things greater than themselves such as big, epic metal that is drenched with crushing guitars and brutal lyrics. We are not the prophets of this doctrine, just merely its disciples.

The mosh pit is a whirling no-man's-land of flying bodies and testosterone run amok. Many have spent a good deal of their youth running around in circles, bumping into fellow frustrated, disenfranchised boys. It's a place where a wayward elbow around the face rewards you with a black eye, a trophy, that immediately gains you the respect and admiration of surrounding "moshers". Is 24 Hours of LeMons not just a grown-up mosh pit? We want to race not to deal out damage to our fellow racers; rather, to capture that feeling we felt as youths. It's the reason we entered that mosh pit and continued to get up every time we were knocked down – to be equals, to be masters of our universe. We only wish to once again enter a whirling no-man's-land of flying bodies and testosterone run amok... with vehicles unfit for operation on major public roadways.

If there was still any lingering doubt about our legitimate claim to be counted among the other death proof road warriors, we offer up this next point for consideration: we know the dweebs on Huey Newis and the Lose, we have been friends with them since college. While we're not proud of that by any means, what we do know is that they are a bunch of panty-waisted sissies that spend their time drinking Bartles & Jaymes Fuzzy Navels and listening to Abba or Phil Collins or some sort of easy-listening 80's garbage. We hear they are especially fond of keyboard guitars, which in itself should disqualify them from competition. But our goal is to not bring to light the inherent effeminate nature of The Lose, thus obliging you as Racing Gods to re-evaluate their license to race the sacred pavement of LeMons. Rather we postulate that such a prestigious racing event such as LeMons deserves to have the 80's represented by a team whose music is actually good and a vehicle that was, nay is, the epitome of perfection – a Chevrolet IROC-Z Camaro. While the credentials of our IROC more than certainly cannot be verified, the simple fact still remains that Autograph's “Turn Up the Radio” still commands our obedience 25 years after originally rocking our tape decks. Try saying that about “Against All Odds” or some other crap. We are well aware of the claims by The Lose that the IROC's fuel injected engine is woefully underpowered when compared to a Mustang GT's carbureted engine. But when you consider the fact that they made the point to bring that up you can't help but feel sorry for them. Plus I hear that California Highway Patrol officers are jealous of our sweet ride and if you wash and wax your ride everyday, like the stealth bomber, cops can't catch you on radar.

So we put it now to the Potentates of the Pavement. While being accepted to a 24 Hours of LeMons event by no means guarantees any actual racing takes place, justice surely demands that we be granted admittance into the inner sanctum if for no other reason than to provide sanity saving heavy metal to counter the ear-raping music of those pink and blue-gray bastards. Fortunately for you as spectators and judges of racing prowess, there's nothing like bringing in another team to provide an old fashioned, grudge driven rivalry. This is not merely a rivalry based on what kind of car they are driving method of fuel delivery; this is a rivalry based on everything about who the members of Huey Newis and the Lose are and what they represent. We humbly request that you allow us the opportunity to restore the balance to the tour de force that is 24 Hours of LeMons or at the very least flip off our friends as we lap their sorry asses.