How many moving tires—Muddy hulls—MONSTER trucks can you keep your eyes on? A freestyle mudding event for the ages; two beasts that just keep on going, no thoughts necessary, just a love for sheer carnage down at the mud field!
The ignition button pressed, the trucks begin teasing. Roundabout, roundabout, roundabout they go like a couple of shy teenagers playing spin the bottle. They crave the action—they need the thrill! They don’t disappoint because Alchohaulin sets the match off with a jump! Over the hill he goes! What a beauty!
Next up, Mudthumpin retaliates, the shiny green glinting gorgeously through scorching sun and down into wet, welcoming mud. It’s a standoff, and nobody’s backing down!
Some laps, some turns, and quickly enough Alchohaulin takes it out of the park! A maneuver to behold, a mini-mountain defeated, leaving Mudthumpin to wander around helplessly, looking to regain lost pride somehow.
They circle hungrily, engines shrieking, drivers soaked with nervous sweat. The trucks slow down by now, the mud’s a cruel mistress and these beasts are getting fatigued—good thing that’s not going to stop them! Off they go, deep into enemy territory; plowing through anything in their way.
Down to the middle and Alchohaulin begins feeling the heat—begins feeling the pain—begins, limping! Alchohauling is LOSING his grip on this match and everyone’s feeling it, including himself. Even with cross-eyed front wheels, he’s still keeping at it, refusing to give in to his injured self. Alchohaulin’s spirit is truly on display here and it is magnificent!
Next surprise comes from Mudthumpin! This animal, this raw symbol of power, is stuck! Igniting doesn’t work; nor does ramming through the steering wheel with a helmet; no, the only thing that’ll work here is raw, brutal love for victory. He can’t lose this now. Too much is at stake. Alchohaulin meanwhile celebrates his staggers, feeling the pain, but knowing his still on top. Amazing turnaround for these folk!
AND IT’S FINISHED! Alchohaulin hit it deep, and now he just can’t get out. The roar of his engine fades out, and he’s just stuck, the mud up to his knees, giant metal beast that he is. Mudthumpin is out of his rut, and is MOVING ABOUT THE ARENA! Is this rubbing it in Alchohaulin’s wounds—or is he just happy to be moving at all? Sure looks like both.
Alchohaulin’s door opens, and soon after the crowd pumps his fist upward along with the driver. Mudthumpin does the same, and the freestyle arena event is concluded, with satisfying results. I can’t believe how it went down, though I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.