The crash (beginning)

The whine of a twin-turbo 600 horsepower V8. That's all I hear. Speeding away on a perfect summer's day on an Italian highway in a scarlet red Ferrari California T. The sun is beating down on the car. The road is completely empty. The beautiful rolling Tuscan hills give me the impression as though I am driving through an oil painting of the most incredible landscape you could ever imagine. It's high noon and the harsh, unforgiving sun is drowned out by the whine of the engine, the scenery, and the fact that there are no speed cameras. I begin to wonder where the rest of the cars are, but quickly put that thought to rest and enjoy the car and the drive. That's when I begin to hear the low grumble of a German flat-six boxer engine beside me. A Porsche. Specifically, a lime-green GT3RS flies by me. Followed by the shrill whine of a supercharged V6, nicknamed the "Godzilla", because of it's power, and the noise that the engine makes when the supercharger wails as the driver steps on the gas. I can barely make out the car. It's a Nissan GTR, having a dogfight with the Porsche, trying to see who has the most power. As I begin to be tempted to join them in their dogfight, I decide to stay cruising, and enjoy my car; since I'm already going 170. Right as the midnight purple GTR passes me, it downshifts, and begins to backfire. I see flames from the exhaust. What an amazing sound. The GTR and Porsche move to the lane farthest to the left, as I'm right behind them. I begin to chase. Like a starved lion in the Savannah, I couldn't stay away from a Gazelle trying to escape my grasp. I start to speed up. 200. 210. The speedometer begins to climb as I catch the two cars in my sights. Then, chaos. I hear an eruption as the GTR begins to burst into flames.