I told you things would get sillier, and behold, they have…
The Great Depression may be in full swing, but for the extremely wealthy it is no more than background noise, a topic of conversation alongside Jacosta’s new outfit or Ronald’s sleepover with the Prince of Wales. But this class has found a new problem; boredom. Attending parties and buying thousand dollar dresses is all very well, but it eventually becomes stale, and thus began a new craze for the thrill seeking elites.
The First of “the races” was probably held in 1934 on a patch of waste ground outside London. Despite being illegal, it spread rapidly, especially as the participants had the finances to travel across Europe and to the USA, with their souped up machines.
The first incident of drivers shooting at each other was, of course, in the USA, but soon the already highly dangerous vehicles were being fitted out with everything from machine guns to the newfangled rocket launchers; others added hoppers for oil and caltrops to give anyone following a very nasty surprise indeed.
As Ascension is now a major crossroads for the rich and famous, it was only a matter of time before the circus came to town. “The Races” are of course illegal, but the local police force have been instructed, from very high up, not to interfere.
Mind you, Captain Bryant has probably decided that with general crime, smuggling, trafficking, vice, counterfeiting, and a civil war brewing back in the UK, his small team have quite enough to deal with. If some rich idiots want to try and shoot each other, that’s their problem.
With luck, they may even succeed.