Things aren't always what they seem. Take this Prelude for example. Fun car, right? Flashy and fit. And if you're like me-which means you ate six White Castle burgers too many last night-then you're probably saying to yourself, "That car is freaky-deaky, ho-up, and show-up." And then (hopefully) you would backhand yourself for saying something stupid like that and go back to watching MTV's Real World: Las Vegas.
But I bet you're also thinking, What sort of bad-ass out-of-control party animal is the man-no, not man-mega-man behind such a riotous car? He's probably ripping through clubs, raging like Sammy Hagar and collecting digits like it's going out of style. Well, you're wrong. "It's like having another full-time job," the owner, TJ Topper, tells me. No leopard print spandex in sight. "Building this car has been hard work."
He's not lying. We scheduled this photo shoot last fall and he's been working on it ever since. That's six months of intense construction and lots of waiting around for the car to come back from the shop. And when Topper (aka Topp Dawg-not really) got it back from the stereo lab a week before the shoot, the car died. He didn't get it to turn over till late last night. And though it's balmy right now, yesterday was a slobbering mess-rainy, windy, and cold. "I don't have a garage," he says. "So Polk Audio lent me a tent. We worked under that."
A tent? That's no setup for someone who is currently appearing (with his car) in a major Polk Audio print campaign. Topper needs to fire his agent.
Supercharged For PleasureIt's been a while since Honda pulled the plug on the Prelude. You don't see many of them around these days. And you've never seen any like this. Its long chassis sits low on the pavement like a Landspeeder. There's zero gap between wheelwell and tires, which hug a set of mint 19x8.5 HP Racing Evo wheels. For some people, 19-inch wheels with monster two-inch lips might be a little too much to handle. Those people probably also share milkshakes at Chuck E. Cheese after their Magic: The Gathering tournaments while T-Bone's out there kicking butt and taking names, and then kicking their nameless butts all over again.
And this is the perfect car to do it in. When TJ pops the hood, the first thing I see is the Jackson Racing supercharger behind the chromed H22A. It's jet-coated red and stands out like a Frenchman in a soap shop in Alaska. It's accompanied by a Jackson Racing oil cooler, DC Sports header, GReddy exhaust, Crane Cams ignition coils, and much more. "I love the supercharger," TJ says and he doesn't mean it in a biblical way. "It's just starting to run right. We're adjusting the FMU for less fuel. Once that's done, it should be good."
On cue, a Firebird makes a slow drive-by before grunting a loud launch from the nearest stop sign. We turn to watch. "He's saying, 'Nice car, but mine's faster,'" TJ muses. "But little does he know about the supercharger."
The Tight Side, The Right SideOn the inside, the car is more loaded than an Apache attack copter on its way to the Gulf. It's got MOMO everything, from the race seats to the pedals. There's an Auto Meter Monster Tach to the right of the steering wheel and a Polk Audio center speaker to the right of that. Below them is an A'PEXi V-AFC and a Pioneer head unit with CD player and TV display (with a Pioneer DVD player in the glove box).
Now a lesser man might have stopped there. A lesser man might have said, "Woomp, there it is!" and gone home to eat White Castle burgers and play Grand Theft Auto: Vice City (and there's nothing wrong with that). But not Topper. Remember, he's the Topp Dawg. And the Topp Dawg took one long look at those rear seats, cried a lonely tear, and ripped them out with his large manly hands, spilling seat guts all over his tent garage (I'm only guessing here, but guessing is half the battle). And while the front half of the car is all performance, the back half is now wired for sweet, sweet sound.