Autodrom Malachi Augustinsson
Norrdnhammr, Fleftic Antarctica
May 31, 2026
Guillermo Archer walked around his Minchev Bobcat and examined it, from the bodywork to the suspension to the tyres themselves. It was fair to say that neither him nor his team, Manalastas Racing, expected their dominance to suddenly come under threat, especially from a literal newcomer in the form of the Pridnestrovian-born driver Wilhelmina von Cärinthen. The 28-year-old driver had arrived at the scene a complete unknown, taking a seat in the newly formed Minchev Racing Team, the works team for the long-time chassis supplier for the Abanhfleft Racing Truck Series. And, for lack of a better word, Cärinthen was doing in her rookie season everything that Gil Archer had done in his rookie season. The Fleftic motorsports community was quickly abuzz about how this upstart driver in the upstart team was mounting a challenge against one of the behemoths of ARTS in Manalastas Racing, and there were the inevitable comparisons between Archer and Cärinthen.
One such comparison was the fact that Cärinthen was a pay driver while Archer was part of a rare and rapidly dwindling breed in ARTS: the sponsored driver. It was a sad fact of life in ARTS that money now made that business go round; in fact, the joke was that every driver on the grid was a pay driver because the series required an entry fee every season. Motorsports had never been much of a thing in Abanhfleft, and critics loved to point out that this "pay to drive" system of ARTS was one of the contributing factors to the continued lack of interest in motorsports at the grassroots level. Passion for racing simply wasn't enough to get you into the game; you had to be rich enough to afford the entrance fee or have someone pay the fee for you. For many racing enthusiasts, this fact about ARTS would be quite surprising as motorsports was oftentimes "the sport of the people" in certain areas. Not in Abanhfleft, sadly.
When Guillermo Archer won the ARTS title last season, it was seen as vindication that a driver who was actually passionate about the sport could still make it big in the series. Never mind that Marvin Manalastas basically took Gil under his wing; in fact, Archer's supporters pointed to this to show that all it was needed for a potential champion to make it into ARTS was to catch the eye of someone who was both rich and interested in the sport.
Wilma von Cärinthen's path to ARTS was much more different. She heard that Minchev needed drivers for its works team, and she negotiated her way into a seat after agreeing to help fund the team with her royal inheritance. That alone made her little different from all the other pay drivers lining up on the grid in ARTS for the 2026 season, but then Cärinthen revealed that she had actual race pace, and she showed that pace consistently enough to become part of the conversation of those drivers seeking to dethrone Gil Archer.
And it was here in Norrdnhammr that things were finally about to come to a head. Cärinthen had been playing catch-up to the boys in Manalastas since the start of the season, but here at the Mang Dolfo's 299 if she finished higher than Archer then she was going to take the lead. And Gil was not yet sure that he wanted to see that happen now, if at all.
"Someone doesn't look very happy today," Brandon Manalastas, Gil's teammate and the son of Manalastas Racing team owner Marvin Manalastas said as he entered Gil's garage.
"You telling me you'd be happy if you had to defend your championship lead from twenty places down?" Gil shot back, but he had a humorous tone in his voice.
"Hey, man, I've done worse," Brandon laughed. "I've tried to defend a lead from the back. Like literally."
"And, if I recall correctly, you actually lost it anyway," Gil said.
"Not my best moment, I'll admit," Brandon shrugged. "If it's any comfort to you, we're gonna start this race right next to each other."
"Comfort? It's the literal dealbreaker!" Gil laughed, and Brandon could only shake his head and laugh alongside his teammate.
"Yeah, you're right," Brandon admitted. "But it could be worse. You could be starting right next to Masaki."
"Yeah, speaking of Masaki, where the hell is he?" Gil asked.
Right on schedule, a bunch of mechanics from the Manalastas garage ran over to the neighboring garage of the Duisdorf works team. "Hey, knock it off! Not today! Not right now!" someone was shouting. And there he was, Masaki Inoue getting into fisticuffs with Ulf Arvidsson, one of the Duisdorf drivers and someone whom Inoue had had a contentious history with.
Gil Archer lifted his eyebrows at Brandon Manalastas as if to say there he is. Brandon just shook his head and said, "Same shit, different day."
"Jesus Christ! How the hell am I supposed to get through all of this!?" Gil Archer demanded to know through the radio as he stared at the massive pack of trucks in front of him.
"Hey, Gil, you're the driver, man," James Santiago replied. "That's your job to figure out."
"Oh, fuck off!" Gil muttered, and then he focused on actually trying to drive his truck through the pack. The act of actually driving through the pack wasn't the thing that annoyed Gil though; no, that was seeing the black-and-red #98 of Wilma von Cärinthen running ahead of the pack without so much as a care in the world about what was happening behind her.
Still, at least Gil had some room to move around in. His teammate Brandon Manalastas was stuck right in the middle of the pack with nowhere to go. He couldn't overtake; he couldn't take the inside or outside line; heck, he couldn't even slow down a little because of all the trucks behind him. In fact, Brandon's crew chief had been advising him to keep his cool and wait for the pack to break up once the lead runners in it got a little bit further and opened up a gap or two.
"Guys, I think something is flying off of the 04," Brandon called out. "Shit, is that rubber?"
Before someone could give Brandon an answer, the rear right tyre of the 04 truck burst, sending shards of rubber into the path of the trucks in its immediate vicinity. There was a big cloud of smoke as trucks braked to avoid the debris on the track, and everything disappeared in the cloud. Suddenly, a purple truck burst through the cloud, flying through the air and headed straight for one of the stands in the autodrome. And if it weren't for the safety fencing surrounding the track, the truck could very well have smashed into the stands and killed many people. As it was though, the fence kept the spectators safe, but the truck itself fell back to the track. Luckily, the biggest pack had already passed it by before it landed, and one more truck swerved around it, but another truck wasn't so lucky.
"Jesus!" Gil Archer exclaimed when the purple truck landed right in front of him. He braked first, and then he tried to turn his truck away from the wreck, but his reflexes failed him and he sideswiped the wrecked truck. "Fuck! What the hell just happened there!?"
"It's a fucking mess, Gil, I know," James Santiago told him. "Safety car is out, safety car is out. Is there anything wrong with your car? Do you want to come in?"
"Yeah, sure, I think I might," Gil replied. "Get me half a can of fuel and some left side tyres. I might have a puncture or whatever when I hit that truck."
"Copy," James nodded. "We're ready for you."
Gil took his truck into the pit lane, along with at least a dozen other drivers. As the mechanics jumped the wall to replace his tyres and top up his fuel, he asked, "Where's Brandon? He was right in the middle of the pack last I saw him."
"Not right now, Gil," James said. "We'll talk later, okay?"
"Yo, what the fuck? What's all this about? What's with the hush-hush and whatever?" Gil wondered.
"Like I said, we'll talk about this later," James repeated, and this time there was something in his tone that convinced Gil not to push the matter. The driver of the #69 truck just shook his head in resignation and drove off once the mechanics were done.
But once Gil was back on track, James called him. "Gil, sorry for all the secrecy and shit back there," he said. "And there's no easy way to say this, but remmeber that truck you sideswiped before you came in?"
"Yeah," Gil replied, but even then he already knew what was about to come. "That was Brandon, wasn't it?"
"Unfortunately, yeah," James muttered. "He wasn't moving or doing anything even when the paramedics came for him."
"Shit! Fuck!" Gil cried out. Brandon Manalastas was one of the few drivers in ARTS whom Guillermo Archer considered as a close friend. "Are you telling me I killed him?"
"No, no, nobody's saying the K word just yet," James cautioned. "The docs still found a pulse in him, but he's not responding to much else."
"Jesus," Gil muttered. "I'm coming in. I'm retiring."
"Why? Is there something wrong with the car?"
"Nope, nothing wrong," Gil replied. "I just don't want to continue this race any more."
"But the championship!" James said.
"Fuck the championship! The rich bitch can win it for all I care!" Gil shouted back. "I'm retiring the car and I'm going with Brandon to the hospital, and that's final!"
Kardashia Chadwick Dealers 400
Kardashia Autoring
Kardashia, Saint Kanye
Present day
"All right, Gil, the start is coming up soon," James Santiago reported. "Make sure to keep your eyes open because some of these other guys might not react as quickly as you."
"Yeah, about that," Guillermo Archer said. "Who the heck is around me right now?"
"Leo Baxter is on your right rear quarter, and it's Kai Qiang right behind you," James said.
"Ooh," Gil muttered. "This is gonna be very interesting."
But despite his own words, nothing much happened between Archer and Qiang in the first laps of the race. But once Gil approached the first turn, he suddenly called out on the radio, "There's debris on the track!"
"What? Where?" James asked.
"Right in front of me, man!" Gil cried out. "Fuck! I'm gonna run over it if I don't stop!" And apparently without waiting for permission from anyone to do so, Gil stepped on the brakes. It was just a light tap, just enough to slow him down and give him a better chance of avoiding the "debris" in front of him. But it was also enough for Qiang behind him to tap his brakes as well.
"Yo! What the fuck!" Wilma von Cärinthen exclaimed. Her car was behind Qiang. "Qiang just brake-tested me!"
"Willie, he had to," Deckard Sullivan explained to her. "Archer brake-tested Qiang, complaining about debris on the track in front of him or some shit."
"Debris? What debris? Nobody's shedding debris here, not this early," Wilma muttered. She knew the real reason why Archer brake-checked Qiang, but there was no way that she was going to talk about it out loud on the radio; not with the whole multiverse listening.
GUILLERMO RODOLFO ARCHER ✓
@ItsGilArcher69
Big ups to @StacieHouston27 for winning in Kardashia! Now let's see you hold on to the lead all the way.
#NSSCRA : #ChadwickDealers400
WILHELMINA DEMETER VON CÄRINTHEN ✓
@queertrucker1998
Way to go @StacieHouston27! Let's show the multiverse what it means to drive like a girl!
#NSSCRA : #ChadwickDealers400 : #GirlsCanDrive : #DriveLikeAGirl
LESTER LEONIDAS BAXTER ✓
@The_Leo_Baxter_420
So close to my 1st ever NSSCRA win but @StacieHouston27 deserves it. Second place is still nice though!
#NSSCRA : #ChadwickDealers00 : #SecondPlaceIsStillAPodiumPlace