A semicircle of about 100 formed around Jim Werych as he got down on all fours in the middle of Lisbon Road, stopping traffic in both directions.
A robot groundhog danced at his side as Werych stared at the pavement, the flowing black locks of his wig resting on the ground.
Then he licked.
He dragged his tongue across the tire-stained asphalt, leaving a streak of saliva a good six-inches long on Lisbon Road.
Calling it a lick doesn't even really do it justice.
This was like a starving dog lapping up the last crumbs of food from an empty bowl.
Amid the gasping, groaning audience, Werych stood up and declared his annual proclamation.
"Hear ye, hear ye: Bring 'em out boys. This street is cleansed!"
And with that, the sixth season of Wednesday Night Classics was officially under way.
Werych's ceremonial stomach-turning antics served a purpose, sort of.
He was purportedly checking to confirm that the local roads were free of winter salt, making the thoroughfares once again safe for rust-sensitive classic cars.
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