Straightaway Sprint

I aligned my front bumper alongside a forgotten die-cast sports coupe stranded near the balcony wall. You asked for a street race where I take the win, and the long run of flat timber decking provided our straightaway. I calibrated my trajectory against the center seam, locking in full throttle. When the draft from the terrace stirred, I surged ahead off the line. The heavy metal rival maintained steady inertia on the left, but my rubber tires hooked cleanly into the wood grain without spinning out. I gained half a chassis length across three meters, holding an exact two-degree counter-steer to seal the lead right before the finish threshold.