On the Perils of Driving a "Sweet Ride"

I was late for class yesterday morning because of a set of chrome low-profile rims and a gigantic wing on an Ugly Brown Cavalier.
Truly, this was the most hideous car I have ever seen. The wing bolted to his trunk-lid was elephantine in proportion (and not quite the same shade of brown as the rest of the car.) The chrome wheels were indeed shiny, and might have been beautiful in some other time, at some other place, or on some other car, but on that morning they were just plain ugly.

I was on my motorcycle, minding my own business at the stoplight, when this Ugly Brown Cavalier pulled up beside me, and the driver began revving his engine. Sadly, this is not an uncommon occurrence when riding a motorcycle in our fair City of Champions. It seems to me that there must be something in the city water that causes glandular disorders.

In any case, I turned my head, flipped up my helmet's visor, looked the driver in the eye with a expression of "do you really realize what you're trying to do?", and returned to my business of waiting for the light and pondering the great mysteries of smoked cheese.

The driver must have misunderstood my icy countenance, because when the light turned green he spun his tires and took off at an impressive rate of speed. Fortunately, there was a red light only 300m ahead, and he was forced to abandon his display of testicular miniaturism with a heavy application of the brakes.

I started off from the green light at a normal rate of speed, and limited my acceleration to 60km/h so as to avoid reaching the next set of lights while they were still red. (Those lights, at 17th and Baseline Road, are much too close together, but then there's nothing that makes sense about that intersection.) Shortly before I reached the intersection, the light changed and I continued without any need for deceleration. My antagonist in the Ugly Brown Cavalier once more revved his engine and spun his tires, this time with a tone of desperate frustration, and managed to catch me up without much trouble. He then passed me at the top of the hill, and looked ready to continue his victorious parade, until he noticed a pair of police officers in high-visibility jackets waiting at the bottom of the hill's long slope. They stepped out into the intersection and waved him over to the side of the street.
I was, at this point, chuckling to myself at the sweet victory I was about to enjoy, only to notice that the police officers continued to wait in the middle of the street, and proceeded to wave me to the side of the road as well.

I sat and waited for some 15-20 minutes before they came over and asked me a few questions about where I was going and what I was doing. At this point, I knew I would be late for class... I don't think the officers were especially interested in my inconvenience. I asked if they could tell me what the person in the Ugly Brown Cavalier was pulled over, (since they were quite obviously waiting for him) and received for a reply only an ominous-sounding "no."

I like to think he was arrested under a new parliamentary bill, the "Ugly Car Act," but "stupidity" would be an acceptable alternative.
(Sadly, I was also unable to take a picture of the Ugly Brown Cavalier; I had my camera in the saddlebag, but I thought better of getting off the bike and digging it out while being detained by police officers...)