August 19, 2005 - the smell of corn was in the air and the crew that runs Indy's Import & Truck Bash was working hard to ensure that the show would go well the next two days. Indy definitely didn't have any trouble getting started on the fast track. As we drove up to the field of the soon-to-be crammed hotels, the mini-truck presence was already evident.

Down the street from our illustrious Red Roof Inn was a pizza outfit that was large enough to contain the hoard of people we had amassed. We engaged in a few games while chowing down on Indy's finest cuisine. To mention a few activities: the "Let's See How Far We Can Throw a Piece of Pizza and Catch It on a Plate" contest, the "Does He Realize We Put Hot Pepper Under the Cheese of His Pizza?" game, and the "Who Can Run Out and Stick Everyone Else With the Bill" extravaganza. We give a mad shout-out to "Pops" and his endless line of credit.

Friday night was no joke. The Red Roof Inn and Motel 6 were hopping like lowriders at Crenshaw on a Sunday after church. This left a little bit of doubt as to how early we would wake up the next morning. Being the champions that we are, we were up mid-day to start scouring the show for would-be feature trucks. Indy never leaves us disappointed, as we snagged a half dozen pimp-daddy rides. Lee Farmer brought out his freshly completed Mazda B-series to taunt us, and Brandt Fuqua of Graphic Disorder laid the smackdown with his out-of-this-world Frontier.

Saturday night was a good night for letting out a little steam at the local karaoke bar. Every year the karaoke bar is a tradition amongst the well-traveled mini-truckers. Everyone warmed up their voices and tried to show who had the best chance at an "American Idol" call-back. Unfortunately, most sported the William Hung-like dying-giraffe sound that adorns the vocal cords of many mini-truckers. Yours truly ran out like a little girl so that nobody would have to hear my Michael Bolton-like reverberation. They also plugged me to sing "Man I Feel Like A Woman." But Mike stuck around for his turn on the mic and busted out "Gangsta's Paradise."

Sunday was a little more kick-back, as some weren't able to get over their alcoholic allergies. The vendor row stayed hopping with a runway of the who's who in the greater Indiana area. Indy leaves no stone unturned, offering up a hydraulic contest, a burnout contest, and a drifting exhibition. The competitions that our eyes were drawn to the most were definitely the dodge ball tournament and the bikini contest, in no particular order.

As we knew our photography sessions would last late into the afternoon, we opted to stay until Monday. Sunday night left much to be desired, as it is after all a dry county. Being the used-car salesmen that we are, we got a gas station attendant to throw out a tip as to how we could obtain our mini-truck holy-water. He clued us in on where we could score some bootleg liquor. We were a little skeptical as to where we were being led, as we had to make our first turn at a pawn shop. As we strolled down the wayward road, we realized we weren't in Kansas anymore. Having seven people with us, though, made us less desirable to the local ruffians. Being the semi-smart people that we are, we aborted the plan with a stunt-car-worthy U-turn, and away to our hotel we rode.

All in all, Indy was off-the-hook . ITB would like to thank its title sponsor Toyo Tires as well as Greed Custom Wheels for being its presenting sponsor. Thanks also goes to the courteous gas station attendant who tried to kick us down with the inside tip on the bootleg-liquor hook-up.

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