The leather in my cowardly blood cries out agonizing screams of joy as I slipstream boost past the dumb ass tuners and sports cars in my cruiser. Catching the right end of a ramp going 200 miles per hour, I rise up 50 feet in the air and fire off a Nitrous boost to keep myself there just a second longer through the magical power of video game unrealism, with my Motörhead playlist blaring in the background, drowning out my troublesome inner thoughts of "Dude, you should Totally buy a bike."