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Those of you who read Judge Loverman's account of serving on the 24 Hours of LeMons South Supreme Court might be telling yourselves "That's interesting, but I really want to know how to give my alleged 500-buck race car an unfair advantage at the next race and get away with it!" Of course you do, because- in the the immortal words of my uncle and early gearhead influence, Dirty Duck: "There's two kinds of racers- losers... and cheaters!"

Back in the 60s and 70s, Dirty Duck was crew chief for quite a few dirt-track racers in rural Minnesota and Wisconsin, and a staple of my childhood was hearing his tales on how he'd discourage any idea of claiming a $5,000 car under a thousand-buck claimer rule. One particularly effective approach was the installation of a steel plate that could be made to scrape on the driveshaft with the pull of a lever. The driver would wait for the last few laps of race (at which point he'd have a huge lead), pull the lever, and limp around the track trailing a hundred-foot comet-tail of sparks and deafening the audience with the sound of a grenaded transmission. When coupled with a windshield-washer pump spraying diesel and/or water into the exhaust system and simulating a garbooned engine, there was no way in hell anybody was going to claim that car.

Of course, the difference between those races and the 24 Hours of LeMons is that there was real prize money to take home in the former; in the latter, you get bragging rights and a hernia-inducing load of nickels. That means there's no point in hardcore cheating in LeMons racing, especially since word on the street is that Chief Perpetrator Jay Lamm is gearing up to claim a not-so-legit entrant for 500 bucks (as the rules permit) very soon, something that very nearly happened with a certain Miata at LeMons South. But say you've gone just a few bucks over the limit, and you don't want those mean ol' judges to hammer you with a lot of lap penalties just because we figured out the recipe for your car's secret sauce. Or let's say your car really was built for under $500- suuuuure you did!- and you need to prove it? What do you do then? Either way, Judge Murilee has some tips for ya!




If your car is fully decorated with some twisted theme, and- better still- the team is dressed up in costumes appropriate for that theme (see the Eyesore Pimpin' CRX), we'll be way more likely to overlook those suspiciously clean-looking suspension bushings and not-so-skinny swaybars. It goes the other way, too; if you've got a lame-ass cardboard shark fin taped to your full-race Miata (we're not mentioning any names) as your last-second attempt to get into the spirit of the 24 Hours of LeMons, we're going to take that as a sign of disrespect.
If we think you're going for the Index Of Effluency trophy (which goes to the team with the car that exceeds all expectations given its utter crapitude and is, in the minds of LeMons purists, the most prestigious prize of the event) and not the overall win, we'll put on some rose-colored glasses when we get under your car and start poking around the engine compartment. In fact, if the car looks really hopeless (e.g., the Karmann Geddon Golf Diesel), we might even skip the BS Inspection altogether!
That Bribe Jar was there for a reason, because LeMons justice is neither blind nor expensive! Cash, beer, barbecue, and team T-shirts all do an excellent job of lubricating the gears of the LeMons legal system; even a sixer of Milwaukee's Best sends a message. While you probably can't afford a bribe of the magnitude necessary to convince us that your rusty Corolla "just came with" that 4A-GZE under the hood, you might be able to persuade us to refrain from dishing out lap penalties just because your team has a vague, can't-put-my-finger-on-it air of cheating about it. Maybe.
We don't mind being lied to during the BS Inspection- hell, we know you're all lying- but we want to hear good lies, and we want to see teams that have put the time in to coordinate their stories. If each member of a trio of smacked-out liquor-store heisters can tell the same phony alibi to the cops after being busted with a getaway car full of needles and rusty .22s, we expect no less from your team! You see, a good, consistent tapestry of lies shows respect for the LeMons Supreme Court (and makes our jobs way more fun). So if one team member says he bought that turbo kit for $75 on Craigslist, another says it was "just lying around" his garage, and a third claims it was $50 at the junkyard, you're going to spend most of the first day just getting your lap count up to zero.
You might think that we'd be looking hardest for engine cheats, but the reality of the 24 Hours of LeMons is such that added engine power doesn't help much; in fact, those extra horses make it all the more likely that your engine will blow up and/or you'll break stuff, because only Smokey Himself could hide all the other components you need to beef up in order to make the car survive with a hot engine. That's why we always take a good hard look at your car's underpinnings. We're going to look for big swaybars, high-buck strut tower braces (the homemade ones bring smiles to our faces; see the photo above), adjustable coil-overs, top-shelf shocks, and so on. Sure, you can find some of that stuff in the junkyard, if you're lucky... but you'd better have proof!
If your car's pencil-diameter swaybars magically become thick as baseball bats after the BS Inspection, and those 200-treadwear tires turn into gooey racing slicks (hey, it's happened), someone from another team is going to notice... and they'll rat you out to us right away! Word spreads fast in the pits, and eyes are everywhere... so think twice before you try a component switcheroo.
Send an email to Murilee Martin, the author of this post, at murilee@jalopnik.com.
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