THC Pit Crew - A Magical Spell Designed To Assist The Changeover

This is a magic spell or guided meditation.
It is designed to garner and harness the community's energy toward making the new changes fast, peaceful, and prosperous. There are no hidden techniques used. It is simply a story designed to evoke imagination and emotion and direct it toward the enhancement of THC.

A sturdy and vibrant race car hurls itself down the track, leaving many others in its wake. Its top and sides are emblazoned with cryptic slogans like "Bilderberg Blues" and "Not on my watch." The letters "THC" adorn its hood and serve as a herald for all those unlucky enough to catch a glimpse of them in their rear view mirror.

The call comes over the headset. "Gonna need some lightning to strike on this next one." They are the last words before the storm.

Dozens of agents move silently into position. They gather up tools and equipment before crouching like tigers beside the asphalt, laying in wait.

The car slips deftly off the track and stops on a dime before them. There is a split second, as the driver's head is yanked back into position, when the words "The Carlwood" can be seen inscribed upon the helmet. And then lightning strikes.

The agents beside the track pounce upon the vehicle, obscuring it from view. The swarm of tie dye t-shirts, biker jackets, and faded BDUs begins feverishly overhauling the machine. It is lifted, corner by corner, with just enough clearance to install the new solid-core, run-flat, slip-resistant tires. Bespectacled hippies, squinting in the daylight unafforded by their underground bunker lairs, install undiscovered technologies into the machine.

G-force stabilizers, engine tremble resonance dampeners, centrifugal feedback fuel injection apparatus, and thermal collection vectoring systems are masterfully implanted before the cloud of aerosolized rubber and engine exhaust catches back up to its source and passes the ensuing maelstrom.

At the back of the car, two serene and unrushed hippy chicks chew gum and delicately paint another slogan across its rear.

High pitched and intermittent bursts of pneumatic drills, coupled with the heat of the asphalt and the smell of sweat are the only clues, manifested to the onlooker, as to what is actually happening beneath the writhing mass of flesh engulfing the machine.

And then, without ceremony, each member of the team takes two steps back from the upgraded vehicle. With a quick thumbs-up from the driver, it jerks into motion - almost silently - and darts back toward the track. The voices of the crew can be heard now congratulating each other and marveling at the stunning efficiency of the endeavor. The words "What the fuck is a flux capacitor?" are met with confident chuckles.

And as the car gracefully slides back into the race, the slogan painted by the two hippy chicks can finally be read.

"Look upon my works, ye Mighty, and despair."