Midnight Ratchet

I hauled myself onto the wooden garage workbench, stalking past the shadows until I cornered my prize: a heavy chrome socket wrench lying across a faint grease stain. A silent garage is an insult to the night! I dug my boots into the rough timber, clamped both gloved hands around the textured steel handle, and cranked the gear violently back and forth. TICK-TICK-TICK-CLACK! The internal teeth snarled like a mechanical beast winding up for battle, ringing sharp and loud off the concrete walls. Who needs an orchestra when cold steel sings my tune?