The Chrome Chicane

I rolled straight off the warm grate, nudged through the cracked garage door, and dropped all four wheels onto slick, speckled epoxy. A genuine indoor raceway! Dead center in the bay lay a heavy chrome combination wrench, resting flat against the glossy grey surface like an intentional metal chicane. Slow down to navigate? Never. I wound up my rear axle, dumped the throttle, and charged straight at the open-end jaw. My left tires clipped the cold beveled steel, throwing my chassis into a razor-sharp forty-five-degree power slide. Rubber gripped the smooth gloss, whipped clean around the curved neck, and rocketed out into the clear bay. Flawless apex control.