From the Marbles - NASCAR

Hey, guess what's back! It's Pit Chatter, everybody's favorite secret behind-the-scenes discussions of your favorite drivers! This is the NASCAR you don't hear about ... but should. (For the newcomers, please note that this is a work of satire and that all celebrity voices are impersonated. Or so they'd have you believe.)

[The scene: Auto Club Speedway of California. The Pepsi 500. Brad Keselowski is weaving through a pack of cars ... and talking to himself.]

Brad Keselowski: I am an engine of pure destruction. I am fury and warfare. I am the lightning. I am-

Tony Eury Jr.: Hey Brad! Hey, man!

Brad Keselowski: ... hey, Tony. What's shaking?

Tony Eury: Just sayin' hey. Whatcha up to?

Brad Keselowski: Racing, Tony, racing. You have anything to tell me?

Tony Eury: Do what now?

Brad Keselowski: You're my crew chief now, remember?

Tony Eury: Yeah, I remember. [Pause as Eury solemnly watches the 88 speed past.] Oh! Hey, Brad?

Brad Keselowski: ... yes?

Tony Eury: NASCAR called. They said you need to knock off the hard racin'!

Brad Keselowski: Knock off the ... are they serious? Really?

Tony Eury: They sure sounded serious. They had that voice Mr. Hendrick gets when he catches me nappin' on the tires.

Brad Keselowski: You've got to be kidding me. I am a missile of greased vengeance!

Tony Eury: Um, okay ... look, I'm just telling you what I heard, okay? I don't know anything about any greased missiles, and I don't want to know.

Brad Keselowski: They think I'm racing hard? They haven't seen hard racing!

[With that, Keselowski finds the 18 car and sends Kyle Busch spinning into the wall. Immediately, Keselowski's cell phone begins vibrating.]

Kyle Busch: D00D!

[Brief break for audience applause upon the return of the trademark catch-phrase.]


Brad Keselowski: Sorry, bro. You're old and in the way.


Brad Keselowski: Gonna nothing. You're not in the Chase, champ. You're a  nonperson for the rest of the year.

Kyle Busch: U R CRUEL  : (

Tony Eury: Brad, for the luvva Pete, what are you doing? Kyle's no big shakes, but what if you hit Montoya?

[Keselowski rams Montoya, sending him spinning across the infield grass. He slows to a stop, rips off his helmet and spits on the ground in Keselowski's direction.]

Juan Pablo Montoya: If it takes me a thousand years, I swear on the blood of my wife and children ... [His phone rings] Yes? Hello? ... Oh, hi, honey ... yes, I was swearing on your life again ... yes, the kids too ... I know we talked about this, but you didn't see -- ... all right. Can I swear on the dog? ... The goldfish? Come on, you've got to give me the goldfish ... Okay. [Hangs up the phone and draws himself up to his full height, pointing at Keselowski's car.] I swear on the lives of Flippy and Mister Wriggle, the goldfish of my children, that this will not stand!

Tony Eury: Brad, you gotta stop this! My phone's ringing off the hook!

Brad Keselowski: With love, right?

Tony Eury: They're saying you need to stay away from Gordon!

Brad Keselowski: We'll see about that.

[As he approaches, Robby Gordon suddenly makes an inexplicable hard right into the wall.]

Brad Keselowski: Huh. Easy enough.

Tony Eury: Not Robby Gordon! Jeff Gordon!

Brad Keselowski: All righty then.

[Keselowski works his bumper up under Gordon's, sending him flipping into the catchfence.]

Jeff Gordon: Gracious! I'll need a pair of fresh knickers after this!

Tony Eury: Brad! NASCAR is screaming at me, and it's getting me very upset! They want you to absolutely stay the heck away from Mark Martin!

Brad Keselowski: That'll be easy when he's in the garage.

[Brad Keselowski plows into Martin, who goes twisting up and around through Turn 3.]

Mark Martin: Heee heee!! Reminds me of the time I threw a bridle on a cyclone and carved me the Mississippi River!

[And, after some time and many wrecked Chasers ... ]

Brad Keselowski: Who's left? NASCAR's not warning me about anyone else, are they? I've gotten all of them, right?

Tony Eury: Not all of them.

Brad Keselowski: Aw, no ... you don't mean ...

[Up ahead, the #48 car tools merrily around the track. Inside, as lite-jazz plays, Jimmie Johnson reads an Isaac Asimov novel and nibbles on brie.]

Jimmie Johnson: How we doin', Chad?

Chad Knaus: Doin' fine, Jimmie. Another 10 laps and it's yours.

Jimmie Johnson: Of course. Say, haven't heard from you in awhile. What've you been doing up there, Chad?

Chad Knaus: Faking calls from NASCAR, Jimmie. Now, where are you going to put that fourth trophy?

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