Last Month the Japanese try to retrive this mod a little bit more. They played in the at 2pm CET. At the moment the gametracker,com Server Monitorring is off. Hope soon they turn it on. The ranking seems to work.
Back in the day, there was a realm known as Interstate 1982. (is82 for short) In this realm there existed two types of people (mostly Asian and Caucasian): The Kingpins and the Vigilantes. Their history together was extensive and their relationship littered with it's ups and downs. Peace between the two factions held little stability. Both parties had the same goal. To capture and hold every territory in the realm and to win every race, and conquer every battle! Many many moons had passed over the realm since it had flourished with exciting races, deadly battles and proud victories over what seemed impossible territories to capture. Many had seen the few take control. Many had perished in their brave but futile attempts to win; the pride of being better than they once were. After a while(but before long) the select Kingpins and Vigilantes who held control of the majority of territories all but vanished. Lost to boredom of the solitude achieved for always being the best. Or, to seek new challenges in other realms. Still, a handful of both parties dug in their heels and held fast to where they were. Maintaining claim to their rightful stake. After all, the realm still periodically had new vistors. Visitors whom had yet to choose a side to serve. Yet, how long would they last? Those Kings and Vigis whom held fast were quick to take in a new brother or sister under their care. They showed them what the many lands in the realm had to offer, and gave guidance to assist their developing skills. "Where is everyone? How do I conquer a territory? What happens after I do? Who is the enemy and where are they? Are the Kingpins and Vigilantes enemies? To which should I swear allegiance?" These were questions thought (if not asked) by the arrival of travelers to the realm. "They're dead." Said a pair of Vigilantes in almost perfect unison. Two newly clad Kingpins found themselves conversing with what appeared to be two seasoned Interstate professionals. The four of them stood together in a semi circle, atop a high mountain range. Two long rows of race cars, one row black and the other line of cars white, sitting idle on the grassy mountain's plateau. "Then what are you two doing here? And how do we get to the end of this section?" Replied one of the new guys. The one wearing yellow sun glasses. "We are waiting for Him to fail, so we can claim victory over this territory." Said one of the apparently seasoned Vigis. Both were wearing red sunglasses and spoke almost identical. They were very close, like brothers, it seemed. "Claim victory over your mom's territory." The other Kingpin, wearing black shades, uttered. "Excuse me? What did you say?!" The second Vigi shouted in obvious anger. "Oh never mind Shooter. He's just rough around the proverbial edges. You'll get used to it. My name is GoodDay. And this is Shooter McGavin. Where are we anyway? We conquered Pipe-Fun, and now we're here." "Well, I hope for your sake you can take care of yourselves. This territory is called Problematic. I am Millard Filmore and this is DeAtH." "Sup." Said Shooter McGavin. "Why ain't we drivin yet? Smoke these donkeys nuckie." GoodDay laughed, "alright buddy let's do this. It was nice to meet you guys. How do we catch that driver up ahead?" It was now Filmore's turn to laugh. "Hahaha you can't catch the Black Swordsman. Not here. Ever since the creator of this territory left, What was his name?" "Presston." Chimed DeAtH. "Yes." Remembered Millard. "He has held this territory as his own. Perhaps waiting for something." "DeAtH chuckled heartily, "The Black Swordsman waits for nothing! He loves this territory as if it were his hometown. I highly doubt that he will ever leave Problematic." "Perhaps he would like some company? Let's go Shooter. Shooter?" Shooter McGavin had already fired up his Black Stratos and was approaching the beginning slope down the starting plateau. His 'behind the wheel' skills were comfortable at best, if not refined. "Smoke em out!" Was all that could be heard from Shooter. As GoodDay ran to his car he yelled back at the Vigilantes over his shoulder, "I don't know why Kingpins must wear Vigilante's garb here, but we will catch this Black Swordsman!" "Good luck!" Shouted Millard Filmore. He turned to face his companion. "Do you think they will catch him?" "I don't know Mil. Let's find out!" DeAtH jumped in his car and sped off after the two. "I hope they do." Millard said to himself as he followed suit behind DeAtH.
GOLD MAP PACK coming soon!!
146 's............................................................"I said GOODDAY SIR!!"............................sig by FlaMiN!!
"I'm not gonna make it Morten." A soft whisper upon moist, bloody lips. "You're going to be okay GD. The chopper is coming. Sniperjack will get us out of here." "Did you see that break in the road Morten? We weren't meant to race this way." "Only drivers like us were, brother. HEY! LOOK AT ME! STAY AWAKE! I see Jack beyond that last ridge." "You always said I drove too fast..."
-There was a roar from the skies unlike any sound heard on earth in millions of years.-
"She won Morten. She fucking ruined me!" "Relax GD. You need to rest now. "AHHHHHHHUUU!!" Samson cried out in pain. "Shh, you're going to be alright. Jack's here." Sniperjack called out from the helicopter, "Is he going to make it Reegado? Reegado?" But Morten's head was held low over a lifeless Samson Burns. "He lost too much blood. His wounds are too critical. She won Jack. OMGzilla killed GD!"
-The great roar in the sky grew closer.-
"Damn...WE STILL GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE! LET'S GO! GO! GO!"
Somewhere near the Bermuda Triangle, on an island a lot like this one..... A race to the death took place.
The year was 1982. Rock and roll was cool. But disco. Disco was what it was all about! Disco was funk! Disco was everything to those with soul. Yet Disco was nothing if it were never earned. The only way to reach the disco was to complete a race. And the only way to complete a race was to survive....(the track)
GOLD MAP PACK coming soon!!
146 's............................................................"I said GOODDAY SIR!!"............................sig by FlaMiN!!
"Welcome to Interstate, I love you!" An afro topped, humanoid robot shouted at its passer bys. "Mommy, what is that!?" A small child tucked himself back against his mum in mild fear and intimidation. "Just an outdated Interstate robot dear." The year was 2182. Zip cars and zip feet moved about, to and fro, without hesitation towards their final destinations. "Come celebrate IS82's 200th anniversary!" The robot continued. "Remember the deadly Deathrace! The extreme stunts! The tricked out Stratos!" The robot was practically giddy... "Take part in the great convoy! Experience the death of the mighty OMGzilla at the hands of The Great Wizard himself, Ratchet! Ride along the dizzying course, Ruined Vacation! Walk the dangerous Rainbow Road! Become immersed in the deadly cliffs of Problematic..." The robot went on, reciting favorite memories of all the forgotten race tracks. "Mommy, it's staring at me!" The boy whined. "Keep walking dear. He wont hurt you. He's practically expired."
GOLD MAP PACK coming soon!!
146 's............................................................"I said GOODDAY SIR!!"............................sig by FlaMiN!!