"We were sitting in a restaurant at Mid-Ohio. I was wearing Fat Elvis (my one piece red 'stich) when a woman at another table leaned over to tell me that I was wearing the most direputable 'stich she had ever seen! I told her to watch her mouth. That was talking about the one and only Fat Elvis - a suit that had saved two riders' hides and held up to tell the tale itself. But I was proud. Elvis was no cut-rate import. No nambly pamby Eurotrash design. Fat Elvis was an All-American suit. Baptized in beer. Battered in maple syrup. Covered in fruit jams and bolstered by barbecue. ...He met a heroic end saving me... You would have been proud of him."
- George B Mastovich via email October, 2007.