Ya know, back in high school, I dated a spoiled rich biotch who's daddy bought her a '77 Camaro with a supercharged 428 Police Interceptor in it. It had an exhaust cut-out handle just next to the console that would switch from stock mufflers to open headers. Everyone wanted to race when we'd cruise the strip. Most of the time we'd ignore them, but when someone got real lippy, we'd egg them on until we got to the light where the cops always hid in the alley. We'd pop open the exhaust, rap it up a few times like we were gonna race, then when the light turned green, we'd close off the exhaust and pull away slowly and watch the cops tag the dipsticks that were trying to race us.
We would race it, but out on a deserted stretch of blacktop east of town, and rarely lost. That was kinda fun, too, 'cause we'd pull up to the line with the nice, quiet exhaust humming along, then a few seconds before they threw the flag, we'd pop open the exhaust and watch the other guy crap his drawers!!!