So earlier this summer my daughter and I were at a little festival wondering about and there was a small car show, you know the ones where 10-20 people park and mingle about. Sitting w/ the beautifully restored 40s and 50s cars and the other usual suspects, lowriders w/ air suspension and fully original single owner classics, sat a glorious gasser. Completely gutted except the things that barely made it legal to drive there. It hadn't seen a lick of paint since the day it rolled off the showroom floor. As we walked by the other cars reading the bios, watching some lower and rise the gasser fired up sending the cotton candy falling from the soccer moms fingers. We both smiled. That was our favorite car there. It was built to be driven. you could touch it, hear it, and see it. There were no velvet ropes or signs protecting it. It didn't need them. So that's the inspiration here. A punky little gasser. Here's what I have to start w/.