Yes, I can almost see that...
You're sitting at the light, waiting for it to cycle for the third time because it didn't turn green for your lanes the last two times, and a hopped up Impala sidles up in the other lane. An obnoxious kid barely in to his first year of legal driving sits inside while some kind of auditory mayhem spills out of the open windows, pounding the leaves on a tree over on the other side of the sidewalk with repeated concussions.
He looks at your toaster and then the tiniest hint of a smirk curls up on the side of his face. He keeps looking, head jerking in time to the obscene rap on his sound system... and then he can't contain himself. The jerk nods at you and smiles. You know what it means, don't you?
Reaching down, you flip the switch. You know what it does but he doesn't - not yet anyway. Oh yes... Smile nicely and look innocent. Uh huh.
The light turns amber on the cross street. This is it!
Your toes shove down on the gas pedal. Deep, under the hood, a solenoid slams open and NO2 rushes through a regulator, up a long metal braided hose, sucks down inside the engine, mixes with gasoline vapors inside the cylinders, and the last moment of its existance as nitrous oxide is over when a spark suddenly ignites the explosive mixture.
Your Element doesn't quite know what to do next. The front wheels begin to screech in horror, grabbing desperately at the pavement, belching blue smoke and skittering back and forth while your brave steed prepares to burst out of the gate... and then you're moving. Your neck tenses, prepared to fight the acceleration. Your gut clenches too for the same reason. On your face is a look of sheer pleasure because you are about to amaze and strike dumb yet another young know nothing punk...
There's a BANG and a clattering sound from under the hood as your surprised engine feels the effects of a massive surge of horsepower. Your wheels stop belching blue smoke as they finally match up with the speed of the pavement beneath them...
which isn't moving at all...
The sound of your dying engine block is softened by the spray of oil, coolant, and the steady hiss of NO2 which hasn't yet gotten the news to shut off for another couple seconds. The spasm taking the front wheels finally quiets down when you skid to a stop, mere inches from where you started.
The punk's smile is gone. He really is amazed and struck dumb... until he smiles again and gently pushes down on his own gas pedal and cruises off down the boulevard.
You should get out of your E at this point and make sure that the engine, now incontinent and gently losing the remaining oil on to the road beneath the front wheels, hasn't caught on fire.
