Ever since I was thirteen, I knew I was going to get a Mustang. There were just so many Mustangs to choose from and options to consider. When I found my car, I was hesitant, to say the least. All the time I was searching for a GT, but it seemed that every V8 stang out there had already been beaten to a pulp, pushing some hefty mileage. I purchased the sixer with 72k miles from the original owner and immediately began tinkering. Among the first things I contributed to the car was a complete dual exhaust with series-40 flowmasters and stainless steel slashed tips. Of course, the GT bumper was a must. This was followed closely by a fender bender to the front end, after which I made lemonade out of lemons (cobra parts). A hefty amount of my paychecks went towards dress ups here and there, rounded off with the most recent mods that really woke up the beast. The Steeda short shifter made my shifts godlike and the predator tuner put every ounce of sleeping horsepower to work. I am very proud of the 'Stang that serves me, and although she is a sixer, she continues to surprise me every day!
One day, against better judgement, I decided to spray down my engine compartment. Standing several feet back and trying to watch where I was spraying, I washed the major components. Satisfied with the job, I hopped in and left the car wash strangely slowly. When I glanced down, I noticed my check engine light was flashing. Terrified that I had harmed my engine, I quickly pulled into a conveniently nearby Autozone. After explaining my situation and some quick electrical checks were administered, the diagnosis was a watered down coil pack. Three of the coils weren't giving a spark. I quickly replaced it with a screamin demon, and now I can laugh about the time when I drove a 3 cylinder Mustang! (Now I am very thankful for the other three).