Only a few slow moving tumbleweeds occupied the desert terrain. The endless plain of dust and hot dry dirt seemed to have no occupants; it was as if the ground hadn't been walked over for years. Suddenly, the seemingly endless silence was broken by a gradual fade into a chaotic rumbling sound. The sound grew more ferocious and eventually became unbearably loud. Just then in the distance behind a cliff, a cloud of dust appeared and out of it raced seven cars racing at insane speeds. It looked as if the cars had been built from scraps of hard iron and metal for the sole purpose was to fight against other contenders in this barren wasteland. .
In front of the pack was a sleek fast car, being pursued by six other cars, but one could tell the leading car was an extremely experienced driver possessing total control of the vehicle. The dark and mysterious figure behind the wheel of the leading car sported a helmet, and painted in red lettering on the side of the helmet was the name "MAX". Max reached across the seat and pulled out a sawed-off shotgun, and after putting it out the window shot a round back at the following pack of cars. Immediately, one car at the back swerved dangerously and rolled several times before bursting into flames broadcasting pieces of shrapnel across the barren wasteland. .
The pack of cars was quickly approaching a deep canyon; they would have to break hard immediately to avoid careening over the edge of it. Max didn't slow down, Max slammed the accelerator to the floor and gave it a shot of Nitrous, and then with such extremity and determination the car screamed as if in pain as it lurched forward, faster than ever. Then the car leapt off the canyon's edge and became airborne. Gliding through the air without any control of the car didn't seem to faze Max at all. The car seemed to delicately touch down on the other side as if there was a bridge. The following pack ended up being obliterated against the canyon's walls and were incinerated into a thing of the past.
